


Shipwrecked

by tinycrown



Series: You ever have that one character you adore? yeah that's anduin. [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Action, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Blood & Violence, F/M, Gen, Holy Priest Anduin, Humor, M/M, anduin is no exception, medical things, this bitch is a tired med student irl dont at me, what priest doesnt study medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 120,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: After the Vanguard shipwrecks in the parting mists, Anduin finds himself abroad on an uncharted isle in the middle of an awakening conflict. It seemed amazing at first, but can he hold out long enough to survive the incoming disaster?





	1. The Wreck of the Vanguard

Dry crystalline soaked grass brushed against his thin cloth boots, twinkling steadily from the constant shine that the  _ Exodar _ produced. A young priest let his hand run freely along the side of the ship’s stray wall, a piece of the alien ship that had broken off in the crash landing so long ago. What looked to be a gold-like metal adorned the wall in a tight curl, complimenting its white counterpart. 

_ I’m going to miss this, _ Anduin sighed dreamily,  _ All of it _ , he removed his bare fingers from the wall and clenched his fist firmly at his side,  _ If, _ he hoped,  _ Father would let me return soon _ . The thought of his father brought up hard memories, the almost forgotten ache in his arm that never seemed to leave. He relaxed his fist and rubbed his clothed arm thoughtfully. It wasn’t as if he wanted to stray from his father, no, more like he wished he wouldn’t be so isolated in the keep like he always was, always will be. 

He was no coward, but the moment he felt his father’s hands on him would be a moment he would remember and tremble at the very thought of. Varian Wrynn was a hard, brutal and arrogant man. Nothing like the father he knew before his kidnapping, though that man wasn’t any better. Stuck in an everlasting depression, ignoring his son for the majority of a decade, though he’d finally come to acknowledge him much to Lady Katrana’s chagrin. Their bond grew, but then his father was suddenly ripped away from him. He cherished his time with his father now, disgruntled as he may be. 

“You are stuck in your thoughts again, my boy?” An old, wise voice had spoken softly behind him, startling the young priest from his thoughts. He turned and smiled warmly at the Prophet’s presence. “I find myself as such sometimes, but I don’t dwell on much good.”

“Hopefully you will not dwell so much to ignore what happens around you,” he says with a teasing tone, grimly remembering the slaughter of the refugees with a gulp. Velen nodded sadly, and his eyes seemed to dim while doing so. Anduin regretted his choice of words. He opened his mouth to apologize. But the Prophet held up a hand.

“Don’t, I deserved that. But let us not focus on what was. The journey will be long, longer than you expected, child-”

“It’s only a two-week-long trip, Velen-”

“But you  _ will _ survive it.” He finished firmly, a stern tone not to interrupt him. Anduin shut his mouth and nodded. He felt a little embarrassed, his manners knew better- and Velen was his teacher… His cheeks flushed a deep red as he bowed his head. He wondered what it meant, though, that he would  _ survive _ the trip. Besides treacherous seas, the Horde would have to be carefully watched and they would have to pass through with different flags, but this was nothing he hadn’t seen nor done before. Anduin didn’t want to dread on what  _ might _ happen, though he was fully prepared if something  _ did _ . 

A large, heavy hand fell upon his shoulder, Velen was smiling down at him warmly. 

“Have a good voyage, my student.” Anduin beamed.

“I hope I will see you again soon, master.” 

 

* * *

“Bad news, Prince Anduin,” Taylor announced as he walked into the Prince’s quarters, the boy sitting at the small wooden desk and scribbling away in his fine leather-bound journal. Anduin looked up from his work and stretched his previously hunched back as he nodded to the Admiral in greeting.

“What is it?”

“It turns out we’re going to have to stick closer to Horde waters than we thought, or wanted to. There’s a terrible storm on the horizon.” 

Anduin looked a little bit peaked.

“Have you said anything to my father?”

“The arcane transmitter isn’t working at the moment, due to the activity of the storm. We can’t get a connection, damn Gnomish tweaks.” He mumbled the last bit, unable to remember the name of the Gnome who’d made “some upgrades” to the transmitter before the left Stormwind Harbor. The boy drummed his fingers along the table in uncomfortable silence. The Admiral looked him over. The prince didn’t ever seem to be affected by any sort of travel, whether by air or water. Lucky snot, it took Taylor  _ weeks _ to get used to his first voyage. He reached forward and ruffled Anduin’s hair, the boy fumbled and pushed his hand away with a chuckle.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. Father wouldn’t be very happy about the news anyways, but it shouldn’t delay us any, right?” Taylor smiled and leaned against the chair. He leaned over the priest’s head and stared down at the journal. Anduin shut it quickly. Taylor swore he saw sketches of himself in there. 

“Did you  _ draw _ me, your majesty?” He barked a laugh as Anduin stuffed the book into his satchel. His face was flushed. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, I draw everyone. When I can.” Anduin said hastily, the tips of his ears a stark red against his fair skin. Taylor pat his back hardily, the boy shoving his chair into the desk as he stormed out of the cabin, embarrassed.

“I need fresh air.” He huffed.

Taylor followed after him, wiping a fake tear from his eye. He’s known the child since he was just a trainee himself, always catching the boy around Stormwind with either Bolvar or his father, but less so after King Varian had disappeared. As annoying as Anduin could be, whether it be by asking too many questions or using his stupid-smart brain, Taylor was fond of him. The prince didn’t have many friends to speak of, other than the servant Wyll that took care of him. It must be lonely, with no one to talk to. Especially with Varian’s harsh return… 

He let his concerned thoughts run off as he and the prince returned to the top deck, both staring out at the vast expanse of the ocean. It was nothing but water surrounding them, rough seas smacking against the hull of the ship. 

He watched as the prince inhaled the smell of sea salt, and sighed. In Stormwind, it was lighter than how it smelled here. He could tell Anduin was homesick, by the frown on his face. 

“We will encounter heavy rains, but will surpass the worst of the storm. We should arrive in Stormwind soon, Prince Anduin.”

“Just Anduin.” He corrected softly. “It’s just Anduin.” His face held an odd sympathy, one Taylor didn’t bother to question. He nodded. 

“Okay, just Anduin.” The boy laughed and elbowed Taylor’s side. “It’s almost dark, now. You should head to bed soon,” 

“Don’t babysit me, Admiral. I can take care of myself just fine.” 

_ You shouldn’t have to _ , Taylor thought sorrowfully, smiling and patting the priest’s shoulder and leaving him to the bow, waves crashing upon the hull and arcing to meet a fine mist that dampened the skin and left sea salt sticking like gravel.

Anduin flicked his eyes over the horizon they sailed away from, dark, looming clouds hanging over the rough sea. His reflecting eyes grew dark with the tension of the storm arising, wondering how his father would act upon his return home. Had Anduin leaving changed him somehow? For better, or for worse? Anduin hoped he would not be arguing with the nobles again, it always caused problems! And it swayed the court in the opposite of their favor. Anduin still hoped to lower taxes, the grief of families and farmers in Westfall during his short reign had left an impact. He was unable to lower them himself, as Katrana held the power over it for the time she was a Royal Councilor. 

The last time he mentioned it, he got some dirty looks from a particular noblewoman. The moles on her face left chills running down his spine to this day.

Anduin inhaled the scent of salty air once more, letting it soothe him. It almost smelled of home, but it missed the flora that wafted from the forests of Elwynn. Vines cluttered with peacebloom and roses, bushes thick surrounded by the largest trees Anduin still hasn’t climbed to the top of to this day. Sometimes, during his off-time of his ‘kingly duties’ he would climb the trees outside the keep, and look toward the forest, then the harbor, wondering if his father was coming through either. 

Hopefully, in due time, they could get better. 

* * *

 

The next three days were miserable, the rocky seas and howling winds hadn’t let up.  _ The Vanguard _ was taking a beating from it. 

Anduin knelt beside a sea-sick crewmember, his first journey, and cast a soothing spell over him. Hopefully it would tame his mind and body, so the rest of the voyage would not be too hard on him. Admiral Taylor had only taken a handful of recruits into the new crew, hand-picked with advice from General Jes-Tereth. Unfortunately, one hadn’t adapted to their sea legs yet. 

Anduin luckily never had problems in the air or on the sea, it just came naturally. Maybe it was just his mind, and the rest flowed in behind it without trouble. He rubbed the man’s back as he heaved again into the bucket, and finished casting the spell. The man, Joe Nicks, waved him off and thanked him gruffly. He was young, maybe about five years older than Anduin himself. 

He left the sailor to recuperate and tugged his soaked cloak tighter to himself, feeling the rain patter against his clothes, and a steady tap against the wooden deck. He tilted his head up, and let his arms hang at his sides. He’d been so tense lately, quiet. The crew seemed to take notice as well, only offering glances of sympathy or disdain. It bothered him slightly, but not enough to verbalize. 

“You should rest, now, your majesty. We’re all fine, see. You’ll catch your death!” A tall brown-haired woman, named Patrice Patrick. She was usually perched in the crows nest up above with her technologically advanced spyglass. She looked very worried, and gestured for him to get under with the rest of the crew. The young priest smiled and nodded, yearning for warmth and dry clothes anyway. 

He trotted down the stairs and into the hall, passing by the kitchen. He heard roaring laughter as he passed by, hair dripping in front of his eyes. He smiled again, happy that they were comfortable enough away from him. Anduin wasn’t  _ trying _ to make it awkward on board, but perhaps him just being there was enough to make any uncomfortable. Anduin sighed and opened the door to his quarters, hanging his cloak on a nail on the wall to dry, and quickly changing into dry clothes. He laid them out to dry on the cleared desk, and curled up on his bed. It was absolutely  _ freezing _ . Even with the thickest of his clothes on, he was still shivering like mad. 

_ I miss Father _ . The warmth he gave off whenever they were close together, he missed that. His stupid jokes, and his stupid face that was too angry all of the time. He wished he could go back to Darnassus and accept the hug that his father tried to give, but he, so stupidly afraid, had backed away. He would give anything to hug his father again, because he feared he would never be able to do so. Remembrance Day would forever be a staple for them, an in-between visit during his training. He dreaded leaving again, and his father hesitated to embrace him. 

Anduin pulled the soft duvet over him and ignored the uncomfortable feeling of salty water in his hair. It pulled at his scalp like grit, and he turned to face the heating lantern by his bedside. He twisted the nub, and it flicked on with a small fire that soon began to roar in its glass prison. When his hair was dry, he could just run his hand through and shake it out like pebbles. Hopefully the rest of the week wouldn’t be so miserable. 

 

* * *

“All hands on deck! Horde ships incoming! Lower the flags, you lot!”

This was unexpected, and Taylor shuffled down the steps as quickly as he could, hands shaking with adrenaline as he stormed into the Prince’s quarters. Anduin wasn’t awake, still resting after a few long and hard nights trying to make sure none of the crew was swept aboard, and that their ship didn’t turn over with the rough seas and crashing waves. They had been charted further off-course by the incoming Horde ships, and hopefully they could pass by unnoticed when their flags went down. They weren’t close enough to see  _ The Vanguard _ in the thick, strange mist pillowing the surface of the ocean, but Taylor and his crow’s nest scout could see the Horde. There was a fleet incoming, but  _ The Vanguard _ was small, and could pass by and evade quite easily if they didn’t attract any attention. 

He dreaded waking the boy in this panic, but he had to make sure Anduin knew what was going on. He leaned down and shook him, Anduin immediately sitting up in the bed. He rubbed his eyes and frowned.

“I heard voices… what’s going on?” He asked tiredly, and Taylor grimaced. 

“A Horde fleet incoming, I came to tell you what was happening. We’re switching flags now, and hoping we’re fast enough to slip by unnoticed, but the fleet is large. There is no telling what could go down.” Anduin started to fret anxiously as he stepped out of bed, putting his boots on. 

“I’m guessing I have to stay down here.” He looked down at Taylor, eyes flighty. The Admiral sighed, he could only imagine the panic running through the boy’s mind. This was hardly the first time Anduin had encountered something like this, and it wasn’t putting anything other than stones in Taylor’s own gullet. 

“If you put a cloak on and keep your hood up and tabard hidden, you should be fine. But I would want you to stay down here, just to be safe, your majesty.” He left the informalities aside, trying to exert how important this was. 

“You should go up there. I will try to remain… here.” He sat down on the bed again, rubbing his hands and letting his head hang heavily in them. Taylor knelt down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He always liked to pretend the boy was insufferable, but now wasn’t the time. He was just a child, as experienced as Anduin might be, it did not mean he could hide his fear. 

“I will get us by as safely as I can. You have my word.” Anduin smiled bitterly, nodding. 

“Thank you, Taylor.” 

Taylor grunted and stood, making his way topside quickly. The flags had been switched, neutral so the Horde wouldn’t outright attack them. Taylor’s own armor and his crew member’s armor were of neutral fittings, making them look like pirates-not that some of the crew didn’t act like them.

“Flags switched, Admiral! The Horde approaches from our right, shall we keep on course, or shall we change direction?”

Feeling confident in their disguise, Taylor shook his head. 

“We keep on course, make sure none of you wear Alliance heraldry, lest we be shot down!” The captain nodded, and kept her face straight. Crewmen and sailors alike kept at work as they passed by the few airships that led the fleet not far behind. 

Suddenly a noise from the other side of the deck alerted Taylor, and he whipped his head over. Joe Nicks, a recruit with a devilish look in his eye, held a flare. Taylor felt his heart start to pump with anxiety as Nicks smirked, and jumped overboard. The rest of the crew blew into outrage as a horn blared from above and canons began to load loudly. He felt the ship’s sails twist suddenly and they were curving around the front of the airship above them. Their cannons couldn’t aim so far in one direction, but who knows with Goblins? 

Anduin appeared next to him suddenly and pushed Taylor to the side, immediate gunfire ranging from the ships that surrounded them. Bullets whizzed past his head as the sailors took cover behind the wooden guardrails, hands holding their own heads down. Anduin’s shield glowed around them, and Taylor found himself breathing again. He was suddenly filled with anger. How could he just  _ freeze _ like that? He was a soldier, fifteen years Anduin’s senior, yet the boy had to save him from certain death? He was not an old, feeble man! He was an Admiral!

“You must get below deck, and stay there, your majesty-”

“Please, Admiral- I can help-I-I have a terrible feeling!”

“You  _ must _ !”

“I can protect you-!”

“ _ Anduin! _ ” He grabbed the boy by his arms and shook him, eyes wide and urgent and angry. Angry at himself for almost getting killed, angry at Nicks for his betrayal. Angry because they were probably going to  _ die _ because he hadn’t paid enough attention to his crew. Anduin’s eyes were glassy and just as angry as his, but for other reasons. He nodded, jaw stiff as he yanked himself from Taylor’s hold. Taylor didn’t pay mind to the stairs after the Prince had left, he rushed to his office, ordering them to hold off and use the mist as their cover. 

Before he could shut the door, the ship rocked violently, and he peered back out. The hull had struck rock, a part of a mountain discovered as the mist retracted. He walked out and glanced up at the captain. Her body lay stagnant, hunched over the wheel with an arrow in her head. He hadn’t noticed before, but much of the crew was gone, and the fire hadn’t stopped, cannon fire launched into the waters around them. 

He sprinted back into his office, and turned the arcane transmitter on, hoping it would reach Stormwind fast enough…

 

* * *

Anduin held fast upright as noise around him was filled with explosions, loud thuds, and high pitched rings. He paced, hands fidgeting up around his ears, his feet restless and his mind screaming for him to  _ help them _ . His crew, not exactly his friends, but they did not deserve this fate! Anduin tugged at his hair as he listened to the screams ring out, loud shots and the smell of gunpowder wafting through the air from the outside. He grit his teeth. He  _ promised _ Taylor he’d stay down there, and he would, no matter how much he hated it. The crew’s mission was to protect him, Anduin prayed that they were okay.

The ship rocked roughly, and Anduin was violently thrown to the floor. His head bounced against the wood with a loud  _ thunk _ , and he flinched, hissing and rubbing at his head. A series of explosions threw the ship forward, and water spurted through the thinnest cracks in the walls. He stayed curled on the ground until the shaking and spinning stopped, his brain like a rubber ball inside of his head. 

The ship settled with a gentle thump, and Anduin could hear his heartbeat pounding in the dreadful silence. The only noise present was the gentle lapping of waves, and the steady stream of water pouring from the newest hole in the ceiling. Anduin became anxious, and turned to the door, attempting to push it open. There was a heavy weight on the other side, and he knelt down to peer through the crack at the bottom of the door. 

A bloody pale hand, two, three of them with rapidly greying skin were piled up in the hallway, bodies that were tossed like ragdolls down the stairs. Anduin backed away from the door, scooting to the far side of the room. His eyes wide, he attempted to stay calm, but his thoughts were racing. Where was Taylor? Was he okay? Was he  _ dead _ ? And the others? He counted three, but there could be more.  _ I have to get out of here _ . 

Staring up at the hole in the ceiling, Anduin started formulating a plan. If he could get up there before the ship sank completely, he could reach the main deck in no time and get off the ship, search for any survivors, supplies, anything to help. He had the Light, but was that enough? He knew the basics of his damage spells, and he could summon spheres of holy fire just fine.

The water coming through the hole in the ceiling started gushing, the whole floor starting to fill. The wood wall on his left side burst open from the stress of the cannon fire earlier, the water started rising faster, and it wouldn’t be long before the room was filled.  _ Just my luck _ , he thought miserably. He glanced over at his satchel and ignored the wetness up to the middle of his calf. Anduin picked up the satchel, stuffing his journal inside as well as extra clothes and supplies from his trunk. Enough to put in, but not enough to weigh him down. 

When Anduin looked up at the ceiling again, he took note of the amount of water rushing in. That must mean the second floor was already flooded. He’d have to swim his way out, maybe? Next to the hole was a loose board, leaning down far enough to grab and hang on to. 

Anduin adjusted the strap on his satchel to cling to him tightly, and he hoped nothing would fall out. He dragged his desk to sit vertically against the leaning wall, and stepped up on it. He would have to do a run-jump,  _ as if there were enough room to run _ . The ship was leaning dangerously, Anduin would have to make this quick. Steeling himself, he took three fast steps before leaping and scrambling to grab the wooden board. He’s pulled himself over bars and tree branches before, so this shouldn’t prove to be difficult. The board creaked suddenly, and started to crack. Anduin panicked and made a sudden grab for the splintered edges of the hole, sucking in a breath and pushing against the water flowing through. As he’d predicted the second floor was flooded. He pushed up from the hole and swam directly for the hallway door. 

Anduin barreled his shoulder with as much strength as he could muster, and mistakenly let out the breath he was holding. His eyes widened and he pushed off of the wall and through the door, desperate for air, he swam hastily toward the light of the sun. Anduin breached the surface of the ocean and sucked in a deep breath. He panted, keeping his head above the water level as the rest of him wanted to be dragged with the currents. The priest made a grab for a hanging pole of the ship, clinging onto it tightly as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes burned with sea salt, and his nose felt funny, but sore. 

He swam slowly toward the beach, and crawled along the sand with fatigue spreading through his body. He coughed wetly, the sand sticking to his skin and clothes like slime. He grimaced and let the tickle in his throat subside as he attempted to stand. He stopped moving to calm himself, and stared out at the overly-green beach. Trees with thick bodies and even thicker bark surrounded the beach, sticks of bamboo crowding around each trunk. Heavy green leaves with yellow and blue flowers adorning them hung from the branches, some of the flower petals floating softly to the ground. Thick bushels of what looked to be large rose bushes with light pink roses marred the ground past the sandy cleft he stood in. 

As Anduin started to move forward, the squelch in his wet boots and socks made him cringe. He leaned down and removed them, clapping the soles of the boots together to get rid of most of the sand before he placed them in his satchel. Going barefoot for now wouldn’t hurt… not until he found somewhere safe. There looked to be a dirt path carved out of the sea of wild rose bushes, and also through the trees. Anduin began to follow it, and hoped that nothing dangerous was lurking nearby.


	2. Storm Winds Brewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin finds a friend; Varian is worried.

Varian slammed his fist down onto the map table, the two veteran soldiers in the room unfazed by the king’s anger.

“Two _hundred_ ships at my disposal, and yet the one carrying my _son_ goes missing!” He shouted, spit flying from his scowling mouth. Jes-Tereth wilted in his anger, seeing past it into the worry and distress.

“We’ve already dispatched the Seventh Legion, but it could take weeks before-”

“Enough! Show me of their last message, Nightwind.”

The Night Elf nodded, walking with the grace his people carried and summoning the last enchanted message sent by the arcane transmitter. Taylor’s face was pale and worried, glancing behind himself nervously as the sound of gunfire and screams could be heard. Though it was only a transmitted message, Varian felt as if he was there, inhaling bouts of smoke and feeling the vibrations of explosions, the ship rocking in violent waves.

“Surprise attack! The Horde fleet has charted us off course, we attempted to bypass them, we were betrayed-but the White Pawn _is_ accounted for. He is safe, for now!-If _anyone_ gets this, send immediate assis-” Admiral Taylor looked behind himself again and he was thrown fiercely off balance, a loud explosion rocking the background of ship as the transmitter cut off. Varian’s anger and concern grew tenfold. His son, his young son was in danger. _Is_ in danger, he corrected himself. A dreaded knot sunk in his heart. What if he was dead?

Rell Nightwind turned back to him, face stoic and back straight. Varian envied his control, if the elf was feeling anything at all.

“The Seventh Legion won’t get there fast enough. We will send a small, elite force to chart a course to this island,” He turned back to them, a fierce gleam in his eyes, “and bring back my _son_.”

* * *

 

Anduin rubbed his head, the lump that formed earlier had swelled to the size of an egg. But now that he wasn’t in a sinking ship, he should be able to concentrate long enough to cast a simple healing spell. He removed his hand from his head after whispering a short incantation, frowning as his hand came back, smeared with blood. He touched it again, speaking the spell firmly, and his hand wasn’t covered with any more blood when he pulled it away. It must have worked. He clutched his knees tighter to his chest as he huddled under the small overhang he had taken shelter under.

It had started to pour, the sky weeping with thunder and loud cracks of lightning. He tucked his hood back over his head and wrapped the long rich blue cloak around his body, taking great care to warm his feet with his hands. He set his boots out, but there was no humidity in the air, so he was terribly cold and damp. He had removed his heavy outer layers, which would have slowed him down if any trouble had arrived. Even if he put them back on, he would still be cold. Anduin shivered, bringing his limbs closer together, curling his toes.

 _Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t they have just left us alone? It was one ship, we didn’t even have Alliance flags! The crew took them down, but that man- Joe Nicks? I helped him before. Why would he betray us? Did he know I would be on the ship? Were the Horde looking for me as some sort of side-job? It looked like they were heading somewhere to start a campaign..._ Questions raced through his head as the rain poured heavier and heavier, the calming sounds bringing him serenity in his distress. It was steady, and constant. He buried his nose in his knees and kept his eyes up, staring as the raindrops dribbled down the long, beautiful rich green leaves.

 _I’m cold._ He complained in his head, realizing he almost said it out loud. To no one. _I hope Taylor is okay_ . _It looked like he manage to escape, but did he forget I was down there? Maybe he assumed I was already dead_ … Anduin sighed, a violent shiver crawling down his spine as his hood fell back and he was exposed to the cold. He pulled the cloak over himself and tugged his sleeves into his palms, curling into the rock wall beside him. _I’ll never get warm like this. Hopefully it gets sunnier after_. The weather was absolutely miserable, and it replicated Anduin’s mood.

He had the feeling he should have been more shaken, and he was-just not as much as he thought he would be. Hopefully the Alliance would send aid to find him. They didn’t just assume him dead and leave him to rot. They couldn’t have, not while his father was alive. He would fight tooth and nail to find him. _I know he will_.

He wanted to fall asleep, but if he did he might never wake up. He was _so cold_. Did the temperature drop? He couldn’t see the sun, but by the indication of the dimming sky and the bright red nebula surrounding what might have been the sun, he would guess it was nearing night time.

“Maybe when it’s night time I should stay moving, and during the day I could sleep? It would be warmer…” He wondered aloud, standing up as tall as he could in the low overhang. He crouched again, deciding the ache in his back wasn’t worth standing in such a small place. He tugged his hood for good measure and picked up his satchel, throwing his boots inside. Either way he walked, with wet boots or just on plain wet grass, he would be doomed to illness either way. He was dangerously prone to sickness due to Katrana’s abuse of his well being, locking him in freezing cold rooms, letting his fires die with no order to relight them. Sometimes leaving him outside, rain or snow, he would sit by the door until someone found him. Usually a guard, but sometimes Bolvar.

He stepped out into the rain, and was immediately pelted by the heavy droplets falling from the leaves above him. He looked up, and took notice that he was underneath a type of willow tree. A large drop splat across his face, and he jerked back, blinking to get the water off of his eyelashes. He looked back down, rubbing the spot in the center of his forehead and wiping the excess water off of his eyelids. He kept his head forward, The squish of the mossy-like ground was uncomfortable under his feet, but not as uncomfortable as wet socks and cheese-cloth like boots.

 _I’m not prepared for this_ . He concluded shakily, staring up from the rim of his cloak hood. _I don’t know where I am_ . _Neither does the Alliance_ . _They won’t be able to find me_. He continued to walk and breathe as steadily as he could as the pessimistic thoughts clouded his focus. It was getting harder and harder to see, and avoiding branches would become almost near impossible soon. Creeping sounds in the rainy silence, patters of water and chirps from deeper-sounding crickets. There were no sounds of birds, so it must have been after six. It was quiet and dark, they’d be asleep until six in the morning. So he had some sort of time frame, and the sun was gone at that point.

He heard no rushing water, there were no lakes, ponds, or rivers near either. He strained his ears, praying to hear voices of some sort. Anduin brushed his hand along the thick bark of a tree, and pressed closer to it, hoping that his silence would bring out noise. The lone cricket chirped on, but it sounded like one thousand were singing, ringing in his water-logged ears. He winced and pressed on, touching a finger to his temple beside the divot of cartilage and cheekbone. His feet were freezing, but he could still feel his toes and wriggled them every once and a while, same with his fingers. And his nose.

He came to a clearing that led a down-drop into a long field with tall grass swaying softly in the gentle, sweet-scented breezes. The clearing stooped about fifty feet, if he were to guess right just from his limited eyesight. His eyes still stung slightly, but it was trying to flush the salt out of his system, his sensitive nerves especially. He rubbed at his eyes, causing them to inflame. He blinked rapidly, tears coming to the corners of his eyes to soothe them instinctively.

 _That’s a long way down. I haven’t perfected the levitation spell yet, maybe it just needs a kick to start up…_ Anduin backed up, steeling himself, rolling his shoulders and wrists. He took a deep breath and bounced on the balls of his feet, swinging his arms before making a quick run for the edge of the cliff. He leaped, the incantation screaming in his head as he willed the aura to come forth and carry him down.

Anduin refused to open his eyes as the ground came rushing up to him, the spell rejected his offer of mana and will to cooperate. He could almost hear his legs breaking, unable to even crawl away from the amount of pain he would be in. _This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have even tried!-_

His stomach dropped and his whole body lurched suddenly. Anduin opened his eyes slowly and sighed in relief. It looked like he was stressed out enough to pull the spell out of hiding. It saved him before he hit the ground. He let the spell go, smacking into the ground with a heavy thud. Anduin grumbled lightly,  feeling the rain pour over his exhausted body. He curled up under his cloak, tucking his body into it like it was a duvet rather than a windbreaker.

Anduin sighed, his cheek pressed against the wet grass as he pulled his thoughts together. So the Alliance might not be able to find him, but if word _did_ get back to his father, he would have sent someone out to come get him. He was… predictable like that. Anduin pushed himself off the ground, grimacing at his wet clothes from the soaked grass. It unfolded under his slight weight, swaying in the wind once more. It seemed less windy the further down he got, so he must have been on the slope of a mountain of some sort. Which was strange… he was just on a beach! Or near a beach, after he’d relocated to his temporary shelter.

Anduin slid down the rest of hill, stopping as he planted his foot down and stood quickly. He took the back of his cloak and wrung it out like a cloth, water dripping from the blue cloth. It reminded him of home, a piece of his family that was with him. Anduin hugged it close to his chilled body, venturing further.

 _I’ve yet to come across anything hostile… is that good? That’s good, right? Or maybe…_ The further he went, the more paranoid he got. Questions upon questions still wracked in his brain, seeking answers but receiving none. The ground was more mud than moss, staining his feet and drying before adding on another layer. Anduin sighed, grimacing at the feeling of dried mud caked on the bottoms of his feet. _I’m going to get frostbite if I keep walking any longer, but the night has just begun… I’m so tired_. Anduin set a determined pace, using his power in the Light to keep his core body temperature running warm.

Anduin came to a halt as a nearby branch snapped, a large, furry paw standing over it not three feet away from him. It had the body of a rabbit, but was mutated and as big as a horse. Anduin gulped, taking a careful step away from the big rabbit. Its face wasn’t friendly, with large red eyes and a sharp looking set of buck teeth. It chirped, a deep voice coming from its thick neck that sloped down into its furry body. The chirp didn’t sound nice, it sounded like it was getting ready to attack. Anduin put his hands up, a sign of peace. He hoped it was sentient enough to understand he meant no harm… unless… it was carnivorous? The thought of it wanting to eat him came to mind, and Anduin suddenly felt sick.

It growled, and made no sense of warning before leaping at him. In the rain, Anduin could see its shiny bright pelt when the moon reflected off of it. He sidestepped out of its way and tried to put distance between them, but it was simply too fast. Its paws, big, the pads were probably tough to get grip on mud. He crouched, planting his hands to the dirt as a shield enveloped his body in a golden glow. He noticed the glint of its claws, and the prince fumbled for the dagger attached to the back of his belt. He ripped it out of its sheath and held it close to his chest, the blade pointing outward. His shield wouldn’t last for long, since he was so exhausted.

It leaped at him again, claws gleaming in the moonlight. Anduin rolled and took a quick swipe at its flank. The blade dug in and tugged roughly, but the screech from the animal wrenched him down to the ground, anticipating another attack. Blood had sprayed on his arm, dripping down his palm. _I must have hit an artery, or a vein_ , Anduin grimaced, _painful. I’m sorry, big guy_ . The creature screeched again, up to the sky, it echoed like a howl. Anduin’s eyes widened. _It’s calling its pack?!_ He stood up, stumbling backward. Leaves cracked, bushes rustling as the trees practically shook with rage as the pack of rabbits tunneled up from the ground. Anduin froze, blade dripping with their comrade’s blood. He sheathed the dagger quickly, and drew up holy fire into his palms, hoping to scare them off. _Most underground creatures hate light, right? This is a special kind… please go away!_

They growled louder, almost echoing each other. The priest gulped and scanned his surroundings for a possible escape. The rabbit-things formed a big circle around him, and by the looks on their faces, they were hungry. He seemed to be the main course of their night. The prince looked up, and found himself trapped under a canopy of thickly flowered trees, the color of them unidentifiable in the night. But, the tops of the trees prevented most of the rain from pouring over him, only a light drizzle spread over his already wet cloak.

The rabbits were waiting for him to make a move, their eyes piercing. Were they meant to make their prey freeze with fear? Because it was working. _I’m trapped… Light… don’t let them tear me apart, I want to be buried full-body, please and thank you._ He intensified the fire in his palms and brought them together, forming a sort of campfire effect around him so he could see better.

A loud roar pierced the chorus of growls, the leaves and flowers on the trees shaking and falling as the disturbance practically destroyed the environment around him. It came from behind the first rabbit that attacked him, and they turned around, suddenly wary. They were sniffing rabidly with their big noses. The thicket was stomped aside as a large white tiger with jet black stripes burst from the bushel. Anduin froze. Another enemy, or an ally? He readied the ball of yellow flames just in case, still flighty on the balls of his feet.

The tiger, rising to its full height in grace and glory, roared a deep, deafening roar that felt as if it shook the trees with harsh fervor. Anduin crouched low, eyes never leaving the large tiger’s form. It stalked forward, toward Anduin, and scanned the pack of rabbits with a hungry look in its eye. It was a strange tiger, longer hair and whiskers that mimicked a beard, with deep ice blue eyes. It’s ‘beard’ was a deep black, and the unique look of the tiger had the prince thinking for a moment. Could it be a wild disciple of an animal god? Likely, but unlikely. This strange land could simply harbor strange animals.

The rabbits stood down, scattering away. Anduin did nothing but sit there and stare until his calves ached with tension, as he realized he’d been crouching for far too long. He stood up straight, relieved as the cramp in his back ceased. The tiger moved its attention fully toward him, and the priest gulped. He let the fire die out in his palms, and waved them out as a sign of peace. There was no _way_ he could run, or even defend himself from this tiger.

“Easy there, uhh… mister tiger. I know I look weird, but please don’t eat me. My father would kill me if I got eaten by a tiger-” he flushed, realizing he was talking to an animal that couldn’t talk back. “Even if you did attack me, I’m kind of defenseless… I mean, you could kill me with a leap if you wanted! I’m definitely sure-” The tiger made a trill noise, warbling joyously. Was it… laughing at him? Anduin flustered for a moment. “You can hear me, can’t you? You’re making fun of me.” He deadpanned, the tiger’s eyes sparkling with mirth. It pranced forward and pressed its nose into Anduin’s chest, the priest freezing instantly. Its whole head was as big as him! The tiger sniffed, and backed away. It promptly sat and stared at him.

The tiger licked its chops, cocking its head as he and Anduin studied each other with interest.

“Okay so.. If you can hear me… could you show me to civilization?” The tiger lowered its head and shook it. Anduin’s shoulders slumped. “That’s.. too bad. Thank you for helping me with the rabbit things, though! They were frightening.” He shook his arms roughly of the goosebumps that popped up, almost feeling the red-eyed glow staring through his back. He looked behind himself, just to be safe. It was still night… and raining, so it wasn’t exactly clear if anything was lurking in the shadows.

The tiger crooned and stood up, standing beside him. “Do… do you want to follow me?” He asked tentatively, hesitating before running his hand along the surprisingly soft, wet fur. The tiger nodded, shouldering up to his side and began to walk with him. “That… would be nice. Thank you.” He pet the tiger again, the overgrown cat purring as Anduin continued on into the early night.

“It’s nice not to be alone, even if you can’t talk with me,” He sighed, looking over at the tiger, noting the mischievous look that was subtly hiding itself within the animal. _And I hope this isn’t a trap of some sort_ … Anduin hoped quietly, brushing his fingers along the body of a tree, pushing away from it as he stared toward the moon again. “Rises in the east… sets in the west. How long has it been? It looks like it hasn’t even moved,” he became slightly disappointed, and increasingly exhausted.

The moon sat low in the sky, bright and large but so far away in the shadows of Azeroth. It cast its ethereal glow on the forests of this strange, new land. But somehow, with the moon breathing over it, the ground felt as if it could breathe on its own. Like it was alive. Each petal of every flower could breathe, could grow, with only sunlight and its own will. Or- that’s what it _felt_ like, at least. Anduin had a problematic feeling that something was going to be terribly wrong soon enough, and let his hand brush the smooth bark of a thin grey-brown tree. It was as soft as his own skin, and he let a somber look cross his face.

This land was too precious to ruin, it sang with life and prosperity. He had no idea if any particular race inhabited it, but they wouldn’t be too happy about newcomers invading their land just to look for him and then stay after to take resources like they did with any new piece of territory. He wouldn’t let his father try and violate this land, nor would he let the Horde. That would be tough, though. He had no connections other than Baine with the Horde. And even that was tenuous. He couldn’t _demand_ Garrosh stay away. He had every right to expedite and explore any land they came across, same as any other being on Azeroth.

Anduin grimaced. If Garrosh got ahold of this land, he could very well destroy it and make it as grim as Ashenvale. If his father did, it would just become a resource mine. Could they both understand the beauty and complexity that this land beheld, and not attempt to destroy it in their warpath? The tiger crooned beside him again, and dipped his head as if to ask him to follow. Gladly, he did, and they ended up underneath a warm cave with a pool of water in the center. Anduin grinned as the ripples reflected from the stalagmites dripping water.

“That… is surprisingly satisfying.” He laughed, unclasping his cloak and setting it on the warm rock. Hopefully, it would dry before they went out again.

“Did you know this was here all along?” He asked, poking the tiger’s flank. It crooned and nodded, shuffling closer to him. “That’s nice…” he yawned, curling up over his damp fur. “I should give you a name, because I can’t keep calling you ‘tiger’,” Anduin sighed, staring up into its crystalline blue eyes. Its whiskers twitched, long a white, like a thin hanging mustache. He snickered, his sluggish hands coming up to poke at it. “I should call you Whiskers!” He gasped as if he had a sudden discovery, eyes slowly falling shut. Whisker’s heartbeat was steady under his ear, and he fell asleep to its thrumming lullaby.

* * *

 

“So, how long have you been here?” Varian asked irritably, staring over at the newly promoted Admiral, who had just finished dressing his wounds. The man winced as the bandage tugged at his bruised ribs, but walked forward to greet the king.

“Nice to see you too, King Wrynn,” he chuckled painfully, slapping a hand over the bandages. “About a few days, recovering. The Jinyu are… wise.” He finished dumbly, rubbing the back of his neck when it ached. “They know much about battle. If we tread carefully they could become an ally.” He muttered this with a little more confidence, but he couldn’t help the slow, fatigued numbness that had spread through his recovering body as of late.

“I meant, how did you get here? The wreck, I’m told, is miles away.” Varian clarified, off-put by the Admiral’s lethargic behavior. Taylor cleared his throat as they walked through the villagers, stumbling as he attempted not to step on a friendly little skitterer sliding around the shallow pond they waded through.

“I was defending the ship from the Hozen, broke a few bones. I was taken by them though, and was their prisoner until Khantis found me. They put me in a cage next to a Jinyu, Karasshi. He helped me escape, along with our draenei friends. It seems they found me before Anduin. No luck yet, Rell and his party haven’t returned.” He sighed worriedly, knowing the King was probably still infuriated by his lack of competence regarding _The Vanguard’s_ wreck.

“No.” His answer was short, but everlasting in anger as his enraged eyes passed over to Taylor, the man looking away from the gaze.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have asked. I mean… I just- he was my responsibility… and now he might be-”

“Don’t, Admiral, if you want to keep that head of yours on your shoulders!” Varian growled, face suddenly feral next to his. Taylor gulped, nodding carefully.

“I apologize, King Wrynn,” he said quietly, brows furrowed. Varian’s moods were like a light switch, turned on and off when needed. Or unneeded. Questions revolving Anduin at the moment were off-limits, especially with Varian in such a state of grief. Anduin might be dead, and they might not even be able to find a body in all of this field-and-forest. His shoulders slumped as he ran a hand tentatively across the bandages on his middle, the poisoned spear that almost pierced him through coming to mind quickly and slipping away.

“It… It’s fine. I just don’t want to think about that right now. Anduin is capable. He’s alive. I know it.” Something about his tone become sorrowful, like he didn’t believe his own words. Anduin was a priest, and the most he could do was smite his enemies, but that not might enough to kill them. _The kid’s a fast runner. I’ll give him that_ . _Just stay alive, for the sake of the Alliance. I don’t think the King can take another death._

* * *

 

Anduin opened his eyes groggily, his stomach rumbling and cramping. He curled up a little, and unfurled when Whiskers grumbled along with him. He got up from his fuzzy pillow and yawned, stretching.

“S’it morning?” He looked over, recoiling at the sudden light that invaded his senses. He rubbed his eyes, letting the red glow through his eyelids before attempting to open them again. He heard a low caw, and found three long-legged red, white and black feathered birds. Cranes? And what looked to be an eagle type bird was fluttering around them. Smaller than an actual one, but bigger than a robin. Anduin crawled forward a bit and sat down in the pale sun to watch them. “I didn’t realize how bright this place was at first,” he said, still waking up as Whiskers dragged himself to lay in the sunlight and stretch his back around Anduin in a circle.

Reclining back against the tiger, he stretched again, feeling his spine pop and the twinge in his back disappear. Whiskers growled playfully and wiggled his long, large body. Anduin giggled and rolled off of him.

“Good morning to you, too, Whiskers,” The tiger recoiled at the name, raising a black furry eyebrow down at him with a pointed look on his face. “What!” He beamed, “It’s a nice name! I can’t call you tiger!” Whiskers groaned and stuck his nose in Anduin’s ear. He squeaked and tumbled away. “Gross!” Anduin rubbed grumpily at his slimy ear. In retaliation he ripped up a clump of grass and threw it at the tiger, the green shreds fluttering over his face. Whiskers shook his head roughly and grumbled, while Anduin returned his gaze to the cranes resting in the shallow end of the pond, bathing themselves and hunting for their morning meal.

“We should get moving,” Whiskers crooned for a moment, and whipped his head around as Anduin gathered his cloak and satchel, forgoing the already ruined boots. “What, what’s wrong?” Whiskers pouted and nudged at Anduin’s stomach with his twitchy nose. The prince smiled sadly. “I can’t trust anything around here, nothing really looks safe enough to eat. Not even the animals,” he chuckled, shrugging. Whiskers growled and rolled his eyes.

Anduin stood up and strolled down the field by the river as it flowed from calm to busy in only half a mile of walking. The grass was greener than the ferns on Azuremyst Isle, and that was saying a lot. The Isle was full of life, mutated or not, the waters were crystal clear, and the trees were ever-blooming since the Draenei fixed the problem with the crash sites. He remembered how soft everything seemed to be, how lively, the flowers would sway with vigor to an invisible beat along with the trees.

Thinking about the Isle made him miss his master, Velen. Even though Velen didn’t particularly enjoy it when Anduin called him master, he meant it more as a respect thing than something mandatory. He tried to explain it, but the Draenei had simply sent him away with no questions asked and no statements made. It had left him a little off-put, but he learned not to question it until he was done meditating. Then, Velen would have a clear head from his visions, and speak to him afterward quietly. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the river waves lull him as the soft thuds of Whisker’s paw pads soothed him.

He knew he shouldn’t get comfortable, but Whiskers was a nice tiger, and a friend was a miracle in strange lands. Even if they couldn’t really communicate, he appreciated the affection that made him less lonely and detached as he tried to wade through the uncharted land with rolling valleys and trees with infinite blossoms.

He spotted a lined variety of rocks, small and large with misplaced boulders set as a border through landslides. Anduin laughed and hopped up on the rock, swinging his arms out for balance despite the wetness on the slabs from morning dew. Whiskers laughed at him in a low warble, but followed him in jumping on the rocks nonetheless. It was like a little game, who could balance the longest to jump to another one and continue their path.

“Unfair, you have four legs! I only have two,” the Prince pouted, glaring as he stumbled off the rocks into the river with bare feet. The fabric around his calves dampened as he stepped out, flicking the water from his toes at Whisker’s face. Anduin snorted as the tiger bared his teeth playfully, nudging his thigh over with his big nose and shoving him into the rocks. “Rude,” Anduin chastised with a false firm tone. Whiskers laughed at him in a low trill, continuing forward as Anduin jogged to catch up with him.

Peering off into the distance down the hill, he spotted a bit of cobbled road, and a lamppost. Rushing forward down the hill, he slid to a stop in the slick grass before touching the road, hearing Whiskers run after him and push up to his side with a questioning growl. Stretching an arm over Whisker’s thick neck, he peered through the side of a thick, pink, blossoming tree, and scratched his ear mindlessly. Was there dangerous people or… _things_ on this road? Were there hidden enemies, did they _eat_ other species?

Stepping out carefully, as if every rock was a hidden trapped plate, he let himself stand in the middle of the road, listening carefully. To the… south.. Was a bridge that continued over the river. To the north, it led further into the forest, leaves hovering over and providing shade in the sunlight. As he squinted to see farther, he noticed it got darker as the trees grew thicker. Whiskers murmured quietly next to him, nudging his hand. Anduin snapped out of his daze of curiosity and stared over at the tiger, raising his hand to pat his head.

“Sorry, Whiskers, I just… It’s a road! This might lead somewhere. Somewhere I can probably get home to…” He wondered longingly, wringing his hands together as he stumbled toward the forest. “There are no road signs, though… I don’t know which way is the right way…” Something was calling him, deep into the heart of the forest. He let his feet carry him forward, and follow the road willingly.

Spots of light appeared here and there under long leaves providing shade from the humid sun, despite the cool day and the hot sun, it seemed like a thick layer of fog was causing him to have a hard time breathing. It was possible this was a normal occurrence, the natives and animals must have been so used to it. Whiskers wasn’t breathing hard like he was.

A loud roar broke his concentration, and he whipped around so hard his neck spasmed. His head twitched for a second as the tingling went away, and he found Whiskers growling with body crouched low, claws drawn and hackles raised as he looked around wildly. Anduin also looked around, twisting himself in the opposite direction. He looked over and down, eyes wide as he saw the mountainous drop that hung over the free edge. There was no side-fence, only a bridge up in the near distance.

“What is it, where did you hear the noise?” He asked hushed, worried. Whiskers curled around him protectively, tail low and fuzzed out like a bottle-brush. He growled, teeth bared and eyes flashing a dangerous icy blue. Anduin placed his hands on the back of the tiger’s neck gently, letting him know he was still there. A loud crack came from the treeline where Whiskers was staring, and Anduin grew uneasy, hearing loud, uneven, thumpy footsteps. His hand curled fearfully on Whiskers’, confused as to what was going to step out of those woods.

A tall bulky figure rushed out of the cover of the leaves, Anduin quickly shoved down into the ground as Whiskers faced the threat head-on. The priest was horrified as a monkey-like figure barrelled into Whiskers’ side and threw him down over the cliff, a horrified wail echoing as the tiger scrambled to catch himself on his claws, only to scrape on rock and plummet. Anduin’s eyes widened as quickly crawled to the side and watched with fuzzy vision as his friend fell to his death. He couldn’t even see the ground as his vision turned red. He got up angrily, ready to take on the big monkey creature, only to stop in shock. What was one big monkey turned into four, and Anduin knew he couldn’t fight them alone. _Whiskers_ … _why did you do that?_

He carried his pride, and ran away…

A rough-skinned three-fingered hand snapped around his ankle and pulled tight, causing Anduin’s ankle to crack violently. He cried out and shoved the creature away with his heel, striking bone. Scrambling forward, Anduin sprinted through the pain up a dirt hill, cutting off from the cobblestone road. His foot gave out toward the top and he grasped the dirt in his hands, dragging himself up and onto his foot. It brought tears of pain into his eyes, but he ignored the secondary crick in his ankle as he clambered upright and pushed off of a smooth stone wall.

He stopped in his tracks, hood pooling around his neck as he clenched his fist around the clasp of his dirty cloak. He could hear the raging footsteps behind him, hoots and screeches coming from the creatures. However, he found two furry creatures, sitting around a campfire and turning, just as shell-shocked as he was.

The bigger looking bearman jumped quicker than the female looking one, leaping over Anduin with grace and kicking the biggest monkey in the face with his large, clawed feet. Anduin shrank and pressed himself against the wall, attempting to keep his foot elevated.

The man and woman took out the monkeys with ease, and then turned to him. The big one swayed and almost collapsed, but his partner caught him and helped him back to the camp. Anduin limped forward, still in shock. He held his hands up, the warmth of the Light coming to his palms easily. In silence, he knelt next to the bear-man and slowly placed a hand on his forehead, feeling the hot fever spike under his bare hands.

“Please,” the woman spoke in a heavy accent, her face exhausted and fearful, “can you help him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make each chapter ten pages, so it takes a while especially with schooling and stuff. I hope you enjoyed this, I wrote out a whole chapter summary to keep me on plot and as a guideline.


	3. Song of the Vale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin is saved by Lina and Ren. Ren, however, isn't doing so well.

Angry and bewildered, Anduin continued to fight Ren’s fever as his daughter, Lina, went out to find more green tea leaves. Apparently, they had a powerful healing effect when mixed with water. It might work, but all she said was healing. Were there no specifics? His sickness didn’t need a healing solvent, he needed a fever reducer. How he wished for some silverleaf right then… it’s properties in decreasing the intensity of fevers are downright magical. Maybe he could ask Lina, and see if she knew of any herb that could mix with the green tea leaves. 

“I’m back,” she announced from the top of the hill, nodding to him in greeting as she knelt beside him, throwing the bunch of leaves she cradled in her palm into a mortar. She picked up the pestle and poured a little bit of water from a vial into the bowl, beginning to twist and rip the leaves. Anduin continued his exhausting stream of healing, fighting back the illness that was too stubborn to just dissipate. It seemed the cells in Ren’s body couldn’t fight back. 

“How did he get sick?” Anduin asked quietly, fighting back the urge to yawn. He had to focus. His ankle ached terribly, causing the spell to disrupt for a moment as it pulsed. He winced, and began casting again. Lina sighed, her hands twisting the pestle. 

“A Klaxxi, you know, the mantid creatures in the Dread Wastes? It turns out they are sending patrols out into the mainland, and they injected my father with some sort of venom when we ran across them by unfortunate chance. He has been ill ever since.” She placed a finger on his belly, right over a recently healed scar. “It closed, and I thought I extracted the venom, but I was wrong. He is worse than ever with it trapped in his body!” Her face grew upset, nose wrinkling as she fought back tears. Anduin reached over and squeezed her arm, moving his healing hand down to the spot she pointed out. 

“I can try to find the infestation. But… I don’t know if I can heal him. His cells are being destroyed, so they can’t fight back against the bacterial essence coming from the venom. From the looks of things, he was meant to be dead in a day, but you did well. The fever probably got worse when he helped me.” Anduin shook his head, growing sorrow. “I bet the venom was biologically designed to eat the body from the inside out, but it’s slowed. Why?” Most arachnids had this type of venom, but mantids? The bigger spiders did, at least. It was deadly, and those who hunted them used acid-resistant armor.

“Why do we care? I know how to help him! But... I can’t leave him for that long. He might-”

“How do we help him?” The priest interrupted her, staring up at the Pandaren. “If you know you  _ must _ tell me. He will not survive much longer like this.” 

“I… your ankle!” She protested. 

“That doesn’t matter right now. My life isn’t on the line anymore, and I will do anything to help friends.” He smiled gently, looking down worriedly as Ren let out a rasp. He leaned closer, hearing him murmur almost unintelligible words. 

“De..n... Sorr..ows.. down the… road,” he coughed, “heal..ing waters…” Pursing his lips, Anduin nodded and took the wet rag from the side, wringing it out into the bucket and laying it across his forehead. Lina looked disturbed, but determined. 

“Down the road, there is a cave, yes, with four bowls of healing water. You must collect them all, in these vials,” she handed him the delicate glass tubes, “We will mix them with the green tea leaves for a powerful effect. I cannot thank you enough, my friend.” 

“It should be the opposite, Lina,” Anduin tucked the vials away in his satchel and stood, wincing as he put pressure on his swollen, sprained ankle. Lina grimaced at the sight of it as well, and sighed. 

“I do not have any bandages… can you heal yourself?”

“I can,” Anduin sighed, knowing she would reject his offer out of selflessness, “but I’d rather save my strength for your father, he needs it more,” Lina gave him a sour look more out of concern than spite. 

“If you get the waters, your Light will not be necessary,” she countered gently, gesturing to his foot. “I can get some more cold water for the swelling after, if you’re so inclined to walk on that foot.”

“That would be nice, thank you! I’ll return shortly.” Anduin would admit the feeling of pain wasn’t  _ great _ , but he wanted to be prepared in case the waters didn’t work on Ren’s illness. It wouldn’t be fair if he healed himself and became fully exhausted, and had no strength left to save Ren. 

Down the same hill, he noticed an overhang with grainy white stone, and headed toward that. Surrounding it were dark shades, with hateful red eyes. Did he have enough strength to cleanse them? Probably not, but he could surround himself in Light in hopes that it would be enough to ward them away. 

Limping along the raised platform, he let a shield envelop him as the spirits raged and screeched in his head, producing a mild headache, but not enough to break his focus. Entering the dark cave, it lit up by the glowing blue waters that emanated a soothing hum. In the middle of one pond was a bowl elevated on a wreath of pale coloured flowers. He took a vial out of his satchel and was mindful not to step in the waters, leaning forward and scooping up just enough water in the vial. Popping the cork back over it, he placed it back in his satchel. 

To the right was a path up into the farther reaches of the cave. He could hear ominous thrums of vile magic through the serene song from the waters. Expecting another shade, Anduin continued onward. Another chamber, shallow freshwater flooded the room’s floor. He let the coolness ease the pain in his ankle as he waded through, retrieving the second vial and filling it from the small wooden bowl. 

_ It must be up on the next floor, but I see another chamber just across the way. I’ll go there first, and then up to the last room _ . His plan decided, he headed across the flat stone and collected the third vial in a separate den.  _ One more… One more, and maybe this thing won’t kill me. _ He took a deep, calming breath and marched up to the last floor.  _ The Light is with me… _ he reminded himself shakily, an overwhelming sense of despair clawing at his gut. He clutched the strap of his satchel and peered around the bend, spotting the tall, overbearing shade storming around in front of the last healing pool. Anduin gulped and steeled himself, preparing a cleansing spell in hopes that it was strong enough. 

He flew out of cover, mindful of his ankle, and threw the spell as hard as he could, in hopes it would stagger the spirit and catch it off guard, making the process easier.  _ This is a big one _ , he prepared another spell, remembering Velen’s wise words,  _ If a spell if cast long enough, the impact will be greater _ . It was a long cast, and he would have to keep up with it if his plan was going to work. 

He flicked his arm out, feet planted sturdily so he wouldn’t fall if the shade decided to attack. It roared, loud and distorted, and tore at its own shadowy body in its rage. It shrunk, and shrunk, and shrunk as Anduin kept the spell strong and steady like the flow of a waterfall. He waited until it shrunk into a spirit orb, and a blue hue of a Pandaren man emerged from the fallen orb. 

“Be cleansed, spirit-”

“Finally, to be free from the grip of darkness! Oh, the light, the beautiful light…” The spirit shouted with glee, head twisting and turning wildly, until his eyes set upon the human before him. The Pandaren looked like a teacher, a master? He spoke slowly.

“What happened to you?” 

“A thousand lifetimes ago, I brought the waters here. A gift to the Pearlfin for ancient deeds. We guarded the waters. Too dangerous, too powerful, to fall into the wrong hands,” his furry fist rose and clenched, as if to break something soft in his shaking grip,  “then the darkness came. It seeped from the ground. Slowly, it infected us...suffocated us! Even after our mortal flesh had rotted away, it leeched hope from our souls. It was unending!” Anduin closed his eyes and shook his head. What horror, to leech from broken souls? How cruel could such a thing be?

“What… what corrupted you?” He took a gamble in asking, despite the obvious distress the spirit was emitting, though it was calming quickly. 

“I dare not speak its name… An ancient evil, an enemy of Pandaria, I will not say it. No!” He shouted, obviously terrified. Anduin raised his hands out to calm him. 

“The… the Song of the Vale is on the wall over there. Perhaps it will help you. I hear the Celestials calling… thank you, brave one.” He watched as the shade disappeared before him, and turned to face the large scroll.  _ I can’t take it with me… I can write it down, though _ . Anduin retrieved his journal from his satchel, and a thin pencil made from charcoal. He scribbled down the words, and read them quietly to himself, the new language coming to him easily through his studies of so many others. 

_ ‘There is a valley where dreamers sleep, Where flowers bloom and willows weep, Where loamy earth springs life anew, And waters sparkle, clear and blue, Where every hearth brings peaceful ease, And beauty sings on every breeze. Here the Sacred Pools spring pure. Here, seek any who desire cure Holy, nature, powers divine, Turn death to life, death to life’. _

Sacred Pools, with divine powers of healing? This Vale becomes more and more interesting, as well as its hidden, but plainly written history. He’d have to ask Lina about it later… He put the journal back into his satchel and took one last look at the scroll before limping over to the pool and filling the last vial, corking it, and walking away. 

The spirits outside of the cave were gone, nothing but orbs laying on the ground, dormant, now that the master was gone. They must have been some sort of… what did he say… Pearlfin? Wasn’t that a town of fish-men Lina had mentioned? Or what… Jinyu! The Jinyu species, very old and wise. Almost as old as the Draenei, or even the Klaxxi mantids. They have been around since the Old Gods, and they’ve never been corrupted. It was impressive how so many types of species have been around… forever, but both the Alliance and the Horde see them as threats. Why?

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he found himself at the top of the hill as he rushed over next to Lina, who seemed to be panicking. 

“The fever has gotten worse, I fear it might have taken his whole body now!” She cried, her cheek fur wet with tears. Anduin removed the four vials from his satchel, and poured them into Lina’s waiting mortar. She mixed the green tea paste and the healing waters, kneeling behind Ren’s head as she handed Anduin the bowl. “I will hold him steady, you get him to drink.” Anduin nodded, cradling the bowl in shaky hands. 

Lina propped Ren’s body on her knees and held his head on her thighs. Anduin reached forward and gently pried his jaw open, tipping the glowing green-blue liquid down his throat. He was afraid of Ren choking on it, or his body forcing him to reject it, but the instant he swallowed it he looked better. His breathing smoothed out and his claws quit scraping into the soft dirt. Anduin relaxed and placed the bowl down, resuming his rounds of Light around his heart and abdomen. Those were the areas most affected, though his bloodstream was worse. 

He stopped for a moment and found Lina staring at him with a grin. 

“I cannot thank you enough, Anduin,” she was smiling with so much joy it looked as if her cheeks ached, “you have saved my family,” 

A low, rumbly groan seeped out of Ren’s mouth as he attempted to sit up. Anduin placed a Light-welled hand on his chest and pushed him back down. He looked up at Lina again, and noticed the bags under her eyes. 

“You should rest,” he advised, feeling tired himself, “he should be awake in the morning, but I’m going to keep him relaxed so he has enough time to let his body heal.” Lina looked as if she wanted to protest, but shut her mouth before she let the beginning of a yawn escape. 

“I will,” she agreed carefully, “the fight was… taxing, to say the least,” she sighed, reclining on the bedroll that was spread out.

“Were you hurt? I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice-!”

“No, no, you are fine.  _ I _ am fine. We’ve just traveled a long way, and we’ve been very tired.” She laughed gently, placating him. Anduin let out a relieved sigh. “You have much on your plate with my father and your ankle already. My restlessness is not of your doing,” she smiled, then drew her eyes over to the bucket with the rag slung over the rim. “By the way, I got fresh water while you were away. It might be very cold, so I suggest using the rag like a cold pack to reduce the swelling on your ankle,” she sat up and retrieved more of the green tea leaf paste spread into a small wooden container.

“How did you make it a paste?”

“Rice flour, green tea leaves, and water should do the trick. They are very good for bruises, and help swelling, as I said before. They are also useful for scratches and insect bites. I used it on my father’s wound before he got sick,” she pointed to the gauze on his furry belly.

“You know a lot about herbs, I know very little about them,” She raised an eyebrow.

“If you are a healer, you cannot simply depend on your Light to help you! Tomorrow morning, I will teach you what I know about the plants in our lands. There are four I know of that a medicinal, though, so I hope you are not expecting a long lesson.” She chuckled and laid back down, handing Anduin the wooden container. 

“Good night, Lina,” He smiled tiredly, returning to his watch over Ren.

“Good night, Anduin.”

Once Lina’s breath ran steady, Anduin rifled through his satchel for his journal, and flipped it open to the latest page. “ _ Here the Sacred Pools spring pure. Here, seek any who desire cure. Holy, natures, power divine, turn death to life _ .” He read quietly, analyzing the page. He rested his cheek on his fist. So, the Sacred Pools were a real, physical thing? They must be true healing waters, like the one in the caves, except a cure to any ailment? Every wound? Even ones… unseen? If this… Vale, held the key to the most advanced form of healing, how could he  _ not _ find and study this ‘Sacred Pool’? It would be any healers goldmine!

But there are those who would try and misuse the power, and twist it into something evil. Was that what the Pandaren master was talking about? Were the Sacred Pools some twisted evil thing with the illusion of being good? Was it like a deal and then pay with your life sort of thing? Anduin shuddered. It reminded him of the Orcs on Draenor, Garrosh’s people, now the ruins of Outland. They were corrupted by demons blood, the entire race enslaved and ruined but ruled by the Burning Legion. All for power that was unused and turned to evil bloodlust. 

Thinking about the Orcs undeniable bout of rage reminded him of his father, the way he relearned as Lo’gosh to be brutal and furious. Even out of battle, some hardened shell of a man. The violence didn’t make Anduin hate his father at all, and the young priest longed to fix what had been broken. For a long time, that’s all he wanted. But at the same time, he knew it wasn’t right to assume his father was broken. He just… changed. Anduin didn’t exactly know much about him either, just as his father didn’t really  _ know _ Anduin himself. They didn’t understand each other, and it was hard to be around him. He always felt so much sadness in the air. 

“Contemplating the power of the Sacred Pools? I do not know much of the Vale myself, child. I study it for a living, and sell my knowledge to other historians on Pandaria.” Ren spoke suddenly, making Anduin jump. 

“Ah, you’re awake, huh? Do you want another pillow-er, something else, for your head?” He offered meekly, scooting closer on his knees. Ren smiled, slightly delirious. His fever must not have fully died yet. Anduin pressed the back of his hand against Ren’s bare cheek, avoiding the cold rag still compacted on his forehead. 

“No, thank you,” Ren chuckled at his awkwardness, and gestured for him to come closer. Anduin sat by his head and removed the rag from his forehead, wetting it again and wringing it out over the bucket meant for his ankle. Ren’s forehead was damp, but his fever was almost broken. The Pandaren hissed as the rag was draped over his head again. 

“Freshwater?” Anduin nodded, “Lina must be asleep then,” he sighed, resting his hands over his chest. The priest nodded again, running a hand over his ribs once the man coughed wetly. 

“How are you feeling?” Anduin inquired, placing his fidgety hands in his lap. Ren shook his head gently. 

“Better than before. It felt as if my body was on fire. I cannot thank you enough, my friend.” 

“It should be the other way around,” Anduin corrected. 

“We saw your tiger friend… I am sorry for your loss.” Thinking about Whiskers made him pause for a moment, and realize he hadn’t thought about the tiger at all since he died. It was upsetting, of course, to think that something he’d been good friends within such a short amount of time would disappear without another thought. What did that mean? He would have gotten some overwhelming sense of fear, practically feeling like he was plummeting himself. So why wasn’t he sad? 

“I don’t think he’s dead.” Anduin stated suddenly, surprising himself. Ren raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly, propped up on a fluffed rice flour sack. 

“You don’t?” He asked after Anduin went silent, “How?”

“Well… I didn’t  _ feel _ him die… So he can’t be dead. Right?” 

Ren paused, relaxing back into his bedroll.  _ Children, so optimistic _ . “I do not know how your Light works truly, but maybe you are right. He is not dead. Can you feel the life of the dead leave?” 

“Normally, yes. Even animals. Not insects, though. I don’t really know why…”

“It’s not best to dwell on that,” Ren joked sarcastically. Anduin snickered. 

“Probably not, no. But, nearby. Back at home… sometimes it happens. And it’s a weird pain in my chest, like I’m kind of panicking but not quite? It’s like a sixth sense, father says.” His eyes felt wet again thinking about his father, but he took a deep breath and willed the conflicted feelings to go away. “I just… I don’t think he’s dead. And he wasn’t a normal looking tiger, was he? I don’t think so. He felt special. He can’t be dead.” Anduin shook his head again, looking down to Ren for some sort of answer. The panda smiled tiredly, chuckling with a deep rasp. 

“Perhaps you will find out soon. Your friend may venture his way back to you,” Ren encouraged, seeing the hope sparking in the priest’s eyes. His shoulders slumped. “He was adamant in protecting you from the Hozen.”

“I hope I see him again… I should have protected him, though. I just stood there. Like an idiot.” He eyes felt hot, and frustration seeped forward. Anduin moved his leg back, hissing as it disturbed his ankle. Ren leaned over slightly, inspecting it. 

“You should put something cold on that. It does not look well.” He pointed a thick finger over at the bucket an unused rag hanging over the side. “Wet that and let it sit on your ankle for a while. It should help the swelling go down. That and that poultice my daughter makes. Did she give it to you?” Anduin nodded, pulling it from behind him. “Put that on first, and then the rag. It will soak in with the water.” The prince, feeling an objection rise, shut his mouth and did as he was told. He scooped up a bit of the paste and rubbed it on his firmly swelled ankle, draping the shockingly cold rag over it and sticking his foot out, leaning back against the cleft of rocks shadowing them from the other side of the mountain. 

“And you should sleep. I am well enough to do so on my own, and my alertness has not failed me since I was a young man.” Ren insisted, “We do not have a spare bedroll, my friend, I am sorry.” Anduin shrugged it off. 

“It’s okay. I’m used to sleeping in weird places,” he laughed, obediently curling up against the rock wall with his leg sticking out awkwardly. 

“Goodnight, Anduin.” Ren murmured quietly. He got a snore in response.

* * *

The next three days passed quickly, and the small group had a set routine that they were all used to in the time it took to make Anduin comfortable in their company. The day after the worst of Ren’s sickness Anduin told them he would leave them, since his services were no longer needed and he couldn’t repay them for what they had done for him. With his ankle still recovering they refused to let him leave and told him to stay off it. Day three came around, and he was walking to get fresh water to boil later with no bad problems other than the occasional cracking and snapping that came with the aftermath of a badly sprained ankle. 

Lina had done well by her promise and taught Anduin everything she knew about poultices and potions, healing brews and even the simply basics of plants. It helped a lot knowing that in a tough situation he could use materials instead of always relying on his healing powers. If they were unavailable, he’d be useless. But with Lina’s help, he wouldn’t ever need to be. She suggested he seek out further training from other Herbalists, since she didn’t know the full extent of Azeroth’s plants. 

Anduin clutched the bucket to his hip as he leaned down, pulling a rain poppy cluster from its root and stuffing into his satchel for later. He was actually making good practice. For money, Lina would create pastes and brews as well as root tonics and leaf tonics to sell to doctors or travelers. He was helping her out in making each batch. She would survey his work carefully and give him little tips or fix small mistakes. He wasn’t making any big ones, other than boiling a root too long.  _ That was embarrassing _ . He blushed red thinking about it. Ren had to spit out the tea… it was so  _ disgusting _ . He could barely swallow it himself. He’d apologized profusely, but Lina had simply laughed at him and told him that she did the same often when she was still learning. 

It was nice to have a mentor again. Thinking about it made Anduin miss Velen. He and the Prophet had a balanced friendship, while Velen still treated him like a child simply because he  _ was _ one, technically, it didn’t stop the Draenei from respecting him as much as Anduin did Velen. They didn’t spend much time together before Velen’s breakthrough. His visions had clouded his thought, making him unable to see what was right in front of him. He could recall the exact revelation he had, repeated to his teacher.  _ Each life, a universe! _ His own visions were never clear-cut. They were hard to understand and interpret. Perhaps Velen could teach him more about premonitions and the like. 

“I’m back!” He announced, setting the pail up next to the recently built campfire. Lina smiled and accepted the root Anduin handed to her. 

“Thank you, now come sit. We have much work to do.”

“Where’s Ren?”

“Out hunting, for now. There is not much wildlife that we can eat around here. I don’t know about you, but I do not eat tigers.”

“My father tells me I eat like an elf.” 

“Does that mean you rarely eat meat?” She plopped two tubers into the boiling pot.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, but I don’t really want to eat it as much as he does.”

“Your father must be a hearty warrior then,” she chuckled, offering him a piece of a peeled bumpy apple looking fruit delicately grasped between her fingers.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it and tossing it into his mouth.

“It is Pomfruit. They are sugar apples. Very sweet, but very nutritious!” 

“They look like green pineapples,” He took another that was offered. She scooted a bowl full of them between the gap of their legs 

“I’ve only had a pineapple once. A human woman came to the coast of our shores once and sold them all for cords of plank wood! She didn’t come back. The pineapple was good though. Very juicy!” 

“They can’t grow here in Pandaria?”

“Maybe down in the Wilds, but then again, they probably wouldn’t last that long. It’s too swampy down there, humid as it may be. It rains a  _ lot _ .” 

Anduin nodded, de-seeding the stems of the rain poppies before severing the root and putting them into a drawstring bag for drying. He focused on his work, occasionally popping a Pomfruit slice into his mouth. Ren came back after a while with no game, but a few more clusters of green tea leaves and rain poppies. They grew in huge bushels near the river. 

“So I was thinking, father, now that you’re fully rested again, I was thinking we could head toward Paw’don Village and try to catch a cart and make our way toward Halfhill. Maybe we could station there from now on. It is closest to the Vale, and it’s a farming staple! I could start a business.” She offered meekly, seeing the grim expression grow on her father’s face as he poured more brew into his cup from the steaming gourd Lina had filled not long ago. Anduin waited with terse silence, knowing it was almost his time to depart from his friends. He couldn't just  _ go _ with them. They were traveling just fine before he came along, and they didn’t need him butting in on their plans! And he would have no way to repay Ren and Lina for all they had done for him. 

“I will consider it, daughter.” Lina relaxed and smiled with excitement. She beamed down at Anduin and bumped her shoulder with his, pigtails swaying. 

“Aren’t you excited to finally get out of here?” As she asked this Anduin’s eyes widened, shocked. Something happy within him grew, an emotional bubble lurched in his chest. He worried his lip, putting the carving knife down. 

“I… you want me to come with you?” He asked, hating how his voice rose with disbelief. Lina cocked her head, Ren looking up from his cup. 

“Yes, of course! Why wouldn’t we?” Her posture became slumped and sad. “Did you think we would just leave you behind?” She placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Anduin looked away in shame. He didn’t think they’d just up and leave, but he didn’t expect them to want him to stay with them. He thought they would just part ways, or send him off. Either way, he was fine with it! They’d helped him, he helped them. 

“Anduin, we wouldn’t just leave you here!” Lina sounded shocked. 

“No- no, I didn’t. That’s not what I was thinking. I just thought we would have just split off, because I didn’t want to intrude at all. I-”

“You are but a child, Anduin, we would not leave you stranded.” Ren spoke, low and rumbly as he took a sip from his brew, looking peaceful. 

“... Thank you… but I couldn’t possibly repay you-”

“We are not looking for repayment, Anduin!” Lina expressed, outraged. “We told you that three days ago, and it has not changed!” She stood, placing her hands on her hips. 

His shoulders hunched, cloak falling around his slight frame. He felt terrible for making them angry, and even worse for doubting them. They had been so nice to him from the start, and he’d  _ doubted _ their kindness as if they were only out for some sort of reward? They didn’t even know he was a prince! And he’d like to keep it that way… 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, keeping quiet. It was awful to assume. How could he do that? It went against everything he stood for to assume that anyone he helped would demand payment and expect something only to get nothing. He was afraid to get hurt, so he didn’t ask for help if he could do it on his own. “I-I didn’t  _ mean _ to assume it’s just-”

“That is what you are used to.” She finished. Sighing and kneeling beside him, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Then I am sorry, my friend, that you had to be put through that.” He sniffed pathetically. 

“I’m sorry,” He fussed again, feeling like a little boy in trouble. 

Ren stood up suddenly, fists clenched and raised as stomping steps came up the hill. Lina tensed as well, removing her hand from his shoulder as Anduin reached for the knife at his knees. 

From the hill came two Draenei, a Dwarf, and a human. Anduin stands in shock, recognizing the two as they stare him, Lina, and Ren down awkwardly. Anduin stands up, ready to flee.  _ What am I doing? I have to go back! But… the Vale, this land. It’s all so intriguing… _

“Prince Anduin!” The Dwarf shouts, throwing his hands out, “By jove, Verild! You were  _ right _ ! Tha’ dream brew sure was  _ somethin _ ’ all right!” He laughs, slapping his knee. The woman next to him rolls her eyes, shaking her head. The two brothers looked absolutely bewildered, this dream brew they spoke of. They must have thought it to be a hoax. Anduin stepped forward, noting the sudden stiffness of Ren and Lina. He hadn’t told them of where he came from, or what his status was. _ I didn’t think it mattered _ . 

He approached the two Draenei, spreading his arms out for a hug. He hadn’t seen the two in so long! 

“Hi?” 

Verild folded his arms, a scolding look on his face. He knew he was due for a lecture, but how was a shipwreck his fault?! Khantis however, was beaming. He scooped the priest into a long, back-cracking hug. Anduin huffed the last breath he inhaled and wheezed, squeezing his arms around the warrior’s neck before frantically patting his back to let him down. 

“Can..t.. Brea...th!” He huffed, sucking in a greedy breath as Khantis let him down gently. He clutched onto the plate-covered arms, unable to get the smile off of his face. It had been  _ months _ since the two departed off to the Eastern Kingdoms, unfortunately leaving during his training, and after Velen’s breakthrough. A big purple hand ruffled his dirty hair, tugging on it slightly. 

“It is good to see you safe, little lion.” Verild’s deep, soothing voice rumbled pleasantly from beside his brother. 

“Alright, alright. Enough. You three will have plenty of time to catch up on the road. Anduin, it’s time to go. Your father is expecting you back to Stormwind immediately.” the woman stated, clearly annoyed with the whole wishy-washy family reunion.

“Is he there?” Anduin asked eagerly. 

“Not currently, no.” Her voice was tired, but gentle. “He’s at the construction of Lion’s Landing with Highlord Twinbraids and Marshal Troteman. But, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you safe and sound locked up in the keep anyways.” Anduin deflated at her sarcastic remark, his stomach churning at the thought of being trapped in his home again. He’d been free with Velen for  _ so _ long. He dreaded going back, only to have his father take those freedoms, jail them, and throw away the key. Varian Wrynn was over the definition of over-protective. How was he supposed to be a good king if he was stuck in his room stacking books on his head all day? 

“Come now, little brother. You must go home.” Khantis reached out to grab his shoulder, but Anduin stepped back. He could feel the constriction rise in his chest, the mere thought of being locked in his room by  _ her _ invading his mind. She left him there, it was so cold and he was too weak to find a way  _ out _ -

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go back. There is much for me to learn here. I’m sure you understand my reasons,” He stared the Draenei directly in his eyes, feeling the power of control surge over him, causing the four to relax instantly, their eyes numb and grey. Khantis nodded, his brow bone furrowing.

“Yes… yes, of course, Prince Anduin.” 

Anduin turned back to his friends, who were frantically picking up their belongings. He mouthed ‘run’, and released his control as they sprinted down the valley. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duuuuude this went out as like, twelve pages. So awesome! I overstepped my goal, though, haha. One thing you guys, I'm writing this on my school laptop, so it might be a while after the 14th where I can write again. My own laptop is garbage, I've had it for six years and its broken. We have a computer at my house but my grandfather is on it 24/7. My mom had a gaming cpu built for me and I can't wait until its freaking finished. It better be, it's been over a year since it's been built and she's paying it off. It's only 200, and with her job, she could have paid that in two months. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	4. Vanguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin departs from Lina and Ren, Varian reflects on past memories and his relationship with his precious son.

Anduin panted, surging Light down to his ankle as it ached. It was too soon to put so much pressure on it, but it was the only sure way they could escape without chase. They stopped at clearing out in the forest, occupied only by chirping birds and insects. The moss and grass felt soft in comparison to the hard dirt their earlier cleft held. It brought some relief to his ankle. He leaned against a tree as he looked from where they came from. There were no sudden movements or even a hint of the search party that had found him. 

“You are a prince?” Lina’s voice cuts through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. He limps over to them, feeling guilt rise in his chest. He nodded quietly, head bowed. 

“I didn’t lie, not exactly. I just… didn’t think it mattered. At the time, I mean.” 

“It is understandable that you would hide that part of yourself. But if I knew it would bring more company, I’d have made more brew!” Ren laughed heartily, patting the small gourd by his hip. Anduin snickered, appreciating how the Pandaren was trying to cheer him up. He grew solemn again, though. He  _ mind controlled _ his friends! Khantis, and Verild… oh no, they were going to be so mad at him! He didn’t mean it, but… he knew that they wouldn’t accept what he had done. They couldn’t forgive him, not like this. 

“I feel terrible… I didn’t want to do that… But they would take me back and my father would  _ never _ let me leave! How am I supposed to be a good king if I’m always locked away?” He became increasingly distressed, pacing and wringing his hands together to keep them from trembling. She would come back. She would punish him, hurt him. She would let him freeze and shake and weep and not even bat an eye. He could still feel her volcanic breath, burning his skin. Her sharp claws pawing and dragging across his face, blood dripping down his chin like tears. 

“Anduin, I’m sure they will understand. You see so much in this land, you are as passionate as our own people are. You want to help others, and heal them. How could he be angry at you for that?” Lina took him by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “You are doing much good for many.” He hugged her back, fighting tears. 

“Thank you…”

“Are you still coming with us?” Ren asked, placing a big comforting paw on his shoulder, squeezing firmly. 

“It’s too dangerous… it could attract attention from the Horde. They could hurt you to get to me, and I wouldn’t want to put you through that. I’m sorry, but I believe it is best if we part ways.” Lina took his hands, smiling with watery eyes. “I am very grateful for the hand you extended to me, and I will never forget the debt I owe you, as my friends. If you ever need a favor, know that you can call upon me… I believe I am not hard to spot in a crowd of Pandaren.” He joked warmly, grasping her soft, fuzzy fingers as he switched glances between them. 

“If you want to find more about the Vale, you might want to try speaking to a Celestial. I do not know the most direct route to one from here, but I wish you the best of luck.” Ren pat his shoulder again, collecting their things. Lina gave him a large pouch of herbs, even though he could collect them on his own, she claimed it was better to have a surplus than none. With that and a small number of rations with what he had left in his satchel, Anduin set out for his new destination. 

* * *

Varian set the bottle of the sweet plum wine down, slaving over the reports given to him by his Admirals. Admiral Taylor’s was the most interesting, operating out of Pearlfin village and using their recent friendship as a means to find Anduin while simultaneously helping their new Jinyu allies. Since Sky Admiral Rogers had to pull out of the operation, Taylor had been desperate for help in finding the prince he lost. 

But this new report, anger welled within him. The disobedience, he’d never seen it before! Where was it coming from? His son had never acted this way, using his power to manipulate. Varian wished he could just  _ ask _ Anduin what was going on, but he was forbidden by his Generals, advisors, and even other leaders to look for Anduin himself. As much as Jaina wanted to, she knew her duties needed her more, and that she  _ and _ Varian should trust the expeditions and vanguards he sent out to find him. 

The two Draenei brothers he set out on this special assignments, they’d both expressed frustration and concern, and spoke of two Pandaren that were with Anduin. One of them looked recently injured but healed, a high probability of it being Anduin’s work. They mentioned also that the boy had looked distressed when they told him that it was time to return to Stormwind, particularly at Amber Kearnen’s words of him being locked back in the keep. He didn’t  _ lock _ Anduin in the keep. He just kept him reasonably close to home so Varian could keep an eye on the boy himself. He just worried for Anduin, that was all. There was an attempt on his life at the age of  _ three _ , for Light’s sake! No one could  _ blame _ Varian for being a little cautious.

Sighing, Varian set the report down and scrubbed his face roughly into his hands, feeling the pinch of a headache between his eyes. Thinking about Anduin always brought up conflicting thoughts, things he’d remembered from before. He’d hurt his boy, back in Darnassus. Anduin announced he wished to follow the ways of the Light. And Varian… he acted like a fool, he acted unfairly. He so desperately wanted to keep his child close to him, when Anduin just needed space to grow and learn. He knew that now, but he loved Anduin too much to let him go. 

“My scouts have set to travel with the SI:7 in their mission.” Tyrande Whisperwind’s voice was gentle and kind, approaching warily from the flap of the tent. “Why are you not in Stormwind?”

“Why are you not in Darnassus?” She chuckled at his sudden snarky manner, knowing his reasons perfectly. 

“I suppose that is a good point.” Her smile was bittersweet, approaching him. Varian turned to face her, eyes hard and angry. “What troubles you? Something to do with Prince Anduin?” 

“I just… I don’t understand  _ why _ he wouldn’t want to come back.” He spat out, grabbing the report and shoving it into her waiting hands. She read it, her face becoming increasingly troubled. 

“He mind-controlled his way out of their custody?” She read, her voice surprised. “What reason inspired this?”

“The brothers say he mentioned something about a Vale. But they told me he was…  _ distressed _ ,” he recalled brokenly “when Agent Kearnen told him it was time to go home. Increasingly so after she said he’d be locked up, sarcastically. It must have scared him off. He took it seriously, but why?” 

“Well…” Tyrande became sheepish, “you do tend to keep  _ very _ strict rules. He might feel as if he would be trapped if he went back to Stormwind. Like you wouldn’t let him leave again.” 

“How do  _ you _ know how he feels?!” Varian blurted out, fists clenching. Tyrande shook her head. 

“I don’t, but you can see it on his face whenever he travels with you. He  _ loves _ it, Varian. And I can bet he is absolutely miserable when you keep him confined to the keep.”

“I know you’re right but I can’t help feeling there’s something else, too.” He thumbed his chin, trying not to grind his teeth out of frustration. 

“Like what?” Tyrande asked, placing the slightly crumpled report back on the table next to the near-empty bottle of plum wine. 

“I don’t  _ know _ , and that’s what bothers me.” Varian sighed, collapsing into the waiting wooden chair that creaked as his weight fell into it suddenly. Tyrande was silent, contemplating. Her lips pursed as she clasped her hands behind her back. 

“I must attend to my scouts, but keep thinking, and we might see Anduin soon. He cannot stay away forever, you know. He loves you.” 

“I know.” His voice was quiet and bitter. His son, lost and confused and hurt out in the middle of nowhere. He must have been terrified at some point in time. But he was glad the two Pandaren were with them. They were good people, and had no intention to be malicious in the least. Except for those Shado Pan. They were particularly hostile towards both the Alliance and the Horde. He hoped Anduin wouldn’t suffer, and he hoped he wouldn’t run into any Shado Pan warriors. It might get him killed, even trying to state peace, they could hurt him! 

Varian stood up and exited the tent, walking along the sandy beach. It was nearing night time, the sun setting on a beautiful hue of red and orange cradling the burning sun. He let his thumbs hang over his belt, the slow hum of Shalamayne’s fire buzzing pleasantly. He hoped wherever Anduin was, he was okay, and safe, and well fed. Light knew how easily he could drop underweight. He ate like a Night Elf. Barely any protein, but enough to keep him running for days. They had such a strange diet. 

He recalled a time when he was younger with his child, before he had been kidnapped by Onyxia. Varian had been recovering from his deep depression, Anduin had slowly become the Light in his dark eyes. He’d never cherished his son more than he did now, but back then he’d never take the happy, optimistic boy for granted. 

 

_ “Father! Father, I hit a bullseye!” Varian heard a joyful squeak before he got a lap full of eight-year-old. Anduin’s bow had been hung on the rack beside Shalamayne, still swaying slightly from its nail. He wrapped his arms around the boy and squeezed gently, afraid to accidentally crush him.  _

_ “That’s wonderful, Anduin.” He smiled, pulling back. Anduin’s arms were still clasped around his neck, perfectly comfortable perched on his thighs. He knew why the boy wouldn’t budge. It was simply because he rarely got the chance to hug his father, nor spend any time with him. Wyll usually put him to bed when Varian was wrapped up in work, which was often.  _

_ “Bolvar said I’d be a master if I kept practicing!” His grin was bright and wide.  _

_ “How bad are your hands?” he held his own out to inspect the tiny, calloused palms. They were red, and the dead skin was flaking. It was nothing they couldn’t put a salve over. Though he worried if the boy would develop arthritis young, or some sort of wrist problem would arise in the near future to put his archery days behind him. He rubbed his thumb into Anduin’s palm, marveling at how much smaller they were than his. Children, he mused, so fragile. _

_ “They don’t hurt too bad today, but my back does.” The boy clambered off of his lap and rolled his shoulders. Varian grimaced. Stiff shoulders, swollen from the excessive use of his bow. Muscles tended to be like that. Annoying, but ultimately too useful to brush aside. Varian stood and walked over to the weapon rack, picking up Shalamayne.  _

_ “Do you think that you’d want to pick up sword training in the near future?” Varian questioned carefully, knowing his son hated to use swords. One, they were very heavy, and two, Anduin was terrible with a sword. He preferred the bow, or even daggers. Anduin was quick and small, and Varian had a hunch that he wouldn’t grow to be as bulky as he was, instead he would possibly develop a slight frame. It would make him more agile in the long run, and that could be easily molded into training as an assassin. He had a slight idea that Anduin would enjoy that more than sword training, considering he preferred to take the lighter route. If he continued that way, he could become incredible support in battle. Enemies shot from afar, or slowly disappearing from the backline.  _

_ “I don’t want to, but if you make me I guess I have no choice.” The boy hopped up on his desk, bow in hand. He plucked the string idly. “I want to be good with a sword, but I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon. I’m really bad at it, father.” Varian chuckled, placing Shalamayne back on the rack. He ruffled Anduin’s pale, fluffy hair and flicked his nose.  _

_ “With enough practice, you could be great.” He encouraged, hoping he would say yes. Even the slightest bit of training could prove useful in the future. _

_ Anduin stuck his tongue out and shook his head. Varian huffed, rolling his eyes. The boy leaped forward and hung from his neck, using the upper body strength his small body mustered up to hang from him like a monkey. Legs wrapped around his waist, the young hunter laughed gleefully.  _

_ “Have you been climbing the trees in the royal garden again?”  _

_ “And if I said yes?” he buried his face into Varian’s neck. The warrior let his arms hang, feeling small biceps shaking slightly as he managed to hang for an extended amount of time. _

_ “... Just be careful.” He smiled, deciding to support the boy so he didn’t let go and fall on the floor.  _

_ “Yay,” he cheered quietly, “I really like climbing…”  _

_ “I know you do, buddy.”  _

 

Varian wiped the wetness from his eye roughly, both happy and sad at the memory. He used to be so joyful and energetic, as Valeera would quote, ‘a ball of sunshine’. He wondered where that went, if it left at all. Did Anduin act differently around him? He always seemed to be so calm and collected, something he must have picked up from Velen. The Prophet, yes, Anduin had been taught many good things by him. His effortless spells on Remembrance Day, the way he so desperately tried to save him. 

Anduin was a wonderful healer, strong in the Light and stronger with a string or a blade in his hands. Well, not a sword, but a dagger.  _ Valeera _ , he chuckled, seeing the last remnants of the sun disappear below the ocean,  _ you should visit soon, he misses you _ . She was off on a personal mission, and he hadn’t seen Broll in quite some time. He missed the two dearly, almost as much as he missed Anduin right then. 

“My boy,” he begged to no one, the darkness of the cold, salty water reflecting his mood, “please be safe.” 

* * *

Anduin heaved in desperate gulps of air as he thundered down the dirt road, a sharp throwing knife nearly missing his head and embedding itself in a tree. He threw an angelic feather down onto the ground, the mark golden and bright as his feet managed to pick up the pace all by themselves, without having to think about it. His lungs were cramping, and his muscles were so exhausted, his legs fatigued. He’d been being chased for ten minutes, in throughout the valley and over a crossroads, running through the woods rather than on the road. He’d rather run into someone’s backyard than into a camp on the road. It could spell trouble, not that he wasn’t already  _ in _ trouble. 

He slid to the side and nearly fell, but used his hands to dig into the dirt and push himself forward. Almost hitting the wall, he pushed off sluggishly, the angelic feather wearing off quickly. The forests of Pandaria were so confusing, they were like a maze. A maze of winding trees and bushes with too-tall flowers and big bugs that looked like fireflies got too much nectar in their stomachs. He felt a brief sharp pain in the heel of his foot, but felt it leave only a moment later. He must have stepped on a branch sticking out of the ground, and it poked his foot. 

He felt a hard plastic rock-like thing slam into his shoulder, and not a moment later, he was shot down. The bullet ripped through his shoulder blade, blood spraying as the sinew and muscle tore painfully. He yelled in pain and tripped, rolling uncontrollably down the small hill he was just running down. The seemingly endless tumbling finished as his back bounced off of a tree. It shook the branches, leaves, and flowers falling from their fragile cups. The impact of his back hitting the tree  _ hurt _ terribly, but not as much as the excruciating pain that was aching from his shoulder. 

He let out a sob, clenching his jaw and sitting up on his good arm. He couldn’t put any pressure on his left arm, it felt so  _ raw _ and the wind passing over him made him want to scream. He gasped and leaned on his right arm with the full extent of his slight weight, shuffling his knees under him as light footsteps approached him.

“Don’t move, human! I’ve got you cornered…” Her voice was silky and venomous, and when Anduin looked up he wanted to look away. An undead, a Forsaken. One of Sylvanas Windrunner’s minions. He wanted to roll his eyes at her. It wasn’t as if he had much  _ grounds _ for moving, did he?

“Can’t believe our luck…” she cackled, her dagger slipping under his chin and forcing his head up to face her fully. He almost choked on spit as shameful, painful tears ran down his face.  _ This hurts! Why couldn’t you just let me go?  _ He leaned back on his legs and put pressure on the exit wound of the bullet wound, hissing. The woman licked her lips, the dagger poking into his throat dangerously before it pulled away. “You’re  _ lucky _ I don’t kill you now…” she grinned, getting uncomfortably close to him. Anduin shut his eyes and looked away, teeth gritting through the pain. “You look delicious,” she took his good arm and hauled him up without effort. His hand ripped away already dried blood, causing the wound to bubble and surface the slow, oozing liquid out of his shoulder. 

Anduin glared up at her as she took a firm hold of his arm and pulled him along back up the hill. 

“Look what I found, big fella!” She pushes Anduin forward, and he falls to the dirt. He looks up from the dusty ground and sees a monkey, grey-furred and white-skinned. He looked… dumber. This was a Hozen, right? One of the creatures that attacked him before… but this wasn’t the same Hozen. It was different. Had the Hozen sided with the Horde? 

“This the bad wikket?” The monkey questions, poking him in the forehead with a long, greasy finger. Anduin cringes away and refuses to look up. He was a prisoner of war now, wasn’t he?

“Yes, this is a rival. See the blue? He’s Alliance scum.” She spat, pressing her sharp boot into his back. He hissed as it prodded aching nerves around his shoulder. 

“Riko punch the ooker in his dooker!” He heard knuckles cracked, and became very nervous. 

“Just knock him out, Riko. Nothing more, nothing less.” Her voice was exasperated as she lifted the boot from his back. Anduin looked up in shock, but couldn’t get the chance to see much as a fist connected with his temple and rendered him unconscious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmkay, short chapter, only about 7 pages. Lmao, Kiryn and Riko are such asses I love them.. and Shokia, but we haven't met her yet. They're not really long-term, just a short part in the story. I only write out what I've already written in my chapter summaries. So far I'm only up to the 15th chapter summary... so this is gonna be a long one, guys. Cute Varian and Anduin when they were younger!! I seriously want to write pre to post-onyxia with varian, anduin, bolvar, and jaina... just UGH it would be so fun!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3<3<3<3
> 
> p.s. I'm really sick rn it's so hard to eat cause my throat hurts >-<


	5. Serpent's Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin finds himself in a pinch. Varian is having a hard time processing. Genn isn't helpful.

Anduin’s ears rung terribly as he woke up, his vision blurry and distorted as he lifted his head from the ground. He looks up, seeing a green-skinned orc woman and the monkey he remembered from earlier speaking quickly, the woman holding a sniper rifle in her tight grip. Something tightened on his shoulder and he hissed, looking over. The undead woman was wrapping gauze around his shoulder. He felt no painkillers, nor any disinfectant. The bleeding must have stopped, but they did little to nothing to stave off any infection, and he was too weak to try and heal himself.  _ Convenient _ , Anduin sighed, looking over at her with an almost bored expression. 

“Look whos awake…” she puckered her lips, smacking them a few times as if she was disappointed, “can’t have you dying now, not before we present you to the General! Maybe he’ll give me some extra coin for this…” 

“Or  _ us _ ,” the orc woman chimed in, the monkey looking out over the horizon with the binoculars. He was making noises of amazement, as if he’d never used binoculars before… well… that wouldn’t be surprising. Anduin didn’t try to sit up, he stayed quiet and confused as the breeze fell over his bare, bloodied chest. He let his good arm stay curled around his stomach, staring up at the orc woman in confusion. 

“General?” He asked slowly, his mind still fuzzy. Little sounds were coming back, like the birds and the distinct sound of water falling. Was it raining? He glanced toward the grey sky.  _ Of course, it was raining. And I’m shirtless, and wounded. A fantastic time to get sick, right? _ He groaned in pain as his shoulder was jostled. Why didn’t they just throw him in a cage? Or was his capture unexpected? 

“General Nazgrim, boy. Or had you not heard of him? I thought they briefed soldiers before sending them into battle. Or do they play you like pawns?” Her deep voice was gravelly and aggravated. Anduin squeezed his eyes shut as his shoulder throbbed. 

“Nazgrim, huh?” He mumbled, leaning on his elbow as he attempted to sit up. He was stopped by a heavy boot to his chest, and pushed down roughly. He yelped as his shoulder hit the hard ground, grinding his teeth together. 

“Yes, our esteemed General. Now be quiet, we have a mission to run,” The orc raised the butt of her gun, and Anduin flinched away as she brought it down, colliding with his temple. 

* * *

“Come, fellow allies, we march to Serpent’s heart! The Hozen  _ and _ the Horde have breathed their last breath!” Admiral Taylor shouted, the mass of the Jinyu raising their swords, spears, and staves in unison with a hearty cheer. They proved to be masters of martial arts, and even better when given weapons.

It felt great to be back in his old armor and Alliance regalia, and he didn’t regret helping the Jinyu whether his intentions were malicious or not. They needed to protect the Jinyu as well as the Pandaren caught in the crossfire of the Horde’s path of destruction. He was sick and tired of General Nazgrim’s games, as well as Garrosh Hellscream’s. And if the report from McLeary was any truth, he’d strangle the Prince of Stormwind himself. 

_ That boy is a stubborn fool,  _ Taylor grumbled in his head, leading the march down the valley toward the Jade Serpent statue in the distance.  _ A ridiculously fast, stubborn fool. I swear if I get my hands on him… Bah! Blast it all, I think a well-timed noogie should instill some discipline… maybe a sparring match with a sword. No, a greatsword. That’ll teach him… _ He smirked deviously to himself. The boy absolutely abhorred sword training, and used no less than either daggers or a bow. 

Taylor smirked.  _ I bet Varian will have something infinitely worse as punishment, maybe scrubbing the Keep floors with a toothbrush. _

“I must thank you, for giving my children hope for a better future again,” an old, withered voice spoke from behind him, almost breathless. 

“Elder Lusshan,” Taylor stopped and recognized the voice instantly, “you should not be here. It’s dangerous.”

“If my children march to battle, then so do I.” He tapped the butt of his staff against the ground, scaly eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you distressed, scaleless one?” 

“If you get hurt… what about the other villagers? They need you! Come now, Lusshan, you know deep down you should be where it’s safe!” Taylor felt as if he were talking to Anduin all over again. He had to be gentler, though. This wasn’t some rampant young prince off to risk his life. This was an esteemed waterspeaker, and vital to the Jinyu. Lusshan sighed, his deep blue eyes pained. 

“I suppose… you are right. I got excited. I apologize, Admiral.”

The Admiral sighed in satisfaction,  _ So much easier than both king and prince. That feels like straight alcohol with no hangover.  _ “It’s alright to be worried for your own, I understand completely. But don’t worry. I will make it my priority that they come back in one piece.”

The waterspeaker chuckled grimly, half-turning before lowering his head. “Such hope in a time of darkness. But all is not fair in war. They will come back, scarred and broken. But that is hardly your fault, Admiral. Good battle, and may the rivers flow in your favor.” 

Taken back, Taylor simply nodded. 

* * *

“Wake up, dooker! Riko’s back hurt!” Anduin cried out as he was thrown to the ground, his mind clouded and fuzzy as he mistakenly leaned on his left shoulder. He grunted and fell back to the wet dirt, eyes fluttering as he attempted to look up from his pathetic heap on the ground. He felt the dust on his eyelashes, blinking rapidly as he pushed up with his good hand and curled his left arm around his chest. He stood up on unbalanced feet, managing to get a good look at his annoyed captors. He didn’t have a fuzzy memory then, because he recognized them. The Orc woman, the Forsaken woman, and... The Hozen. He was probably carried by the big monkey, as to the reason he was rubbing his shoulder with an angry look on his face.

“Get movin’, boy,” the Orc growled, reaching forward and grabbing his collar. Did they put his clothes back on? No, just his cloak. He felt the sloppy and damp bandages constrict against his chest, and shivered in the chilly wind.  _ My satchel…. Where? _ He looked around, and found it clamped against the Undead’s belt.  _ They must have looked through it already. _ He sighed and stumbled to keep up with their fast pace. They were approaching a Horde settlement, obvious by the spiky rooftops and distinct looking buildings. 

They brought him to a large building, probably the main quarters with a giant Horde banner hanging in front of the open doorless entrance, escorting him around to the main ring before he was approached by the General. He was a very tall orc, spanning Anduin almost by his entire height. His tusks were yellow and metal rings were clenched around them, four distinct half-moons adorning the outside. He almost shrunk away in fear, but none of the people he’d been captured by seemed to recognize him. 

“What’s this, then? An Alliance boy, here?”

“Stumbled upon im’ in the southeastern bit of the Jade forest, looks like a courier.” 

“He’s injured?”

“I shot him.” She answered, her voice cold. Nazgrim grinned, laughing. 

“No wonder he’s so pale… good then!” The Orc leaned down close to him, “Wait a minute… I know your face, human!” Anduin shrunk away pulling back at the Orc woman’s hold slightly as the General peered down at him, his face turning angry. “You’re the son of Varian Wrynn!” The two women who’d captured him turned to the priest, a little shocked. The General cracked his fists. “Anduin Wrynn… a fitting reward for the trials we’ve endured! Shokia, Kiryn! Come speak with me, I must give you your next task. Leave the boy with the monkey. He does  _ not _ take one step!” the Orc shoved him into the manure-smelling monkey and Anduin pushed away, disgusted. 

Riko screeched and took him by his bad arm, throwing him to the ground. “You no push Riko, human ooker!” He pushed his four-toed foot onto Anduin’s shoulder blade. The priest resisted crying out, biting his lip hard and pushing up once the monkey let off with a growl. Nazgrim laughed and turned to speak to the two scouts. He knelt by the monkey and curled his arm around his chest again, feeling wetness seep down his bare chest. His satchel, still clipped to Kiryn’s belt, had the bandages and poultices that Lina gave to him. 

Anduin hissed as he adjusted his arm to be comfortable and leaned against the wooden wall as the monkey stared at him with a determined, angry haze. Anduin glared at him and curled up against the wall, tucking his cloak over his chest like a blanket. There wasn’t room for escape, not yet. But he would find it. And he would get his satchel back, and high-tail it out of the stinking hovel the Horde called a base. 

“Wrynn! Tell me, so kindly, are there any scouts nearby? Any guard posts I should worry about? Perhaps a  _ peon _ or two?” 

Anduin didn’t say anything, and kept his eyes trained on the Orc’s black and red plated boots. He felt the anger and shame welling within him. He didn’t have locations for Nazgrim, nor would he give the General a lick of information if he had any! He wouldn’t say a word, not with a blade to his throat. He wouldn’t willingly put men in danger like that, no. He refused to betray his father or his people. He felt slightly offended that Nazgrim would think he would  _ talk _ that easy as if he knew. 

“Speak when you are  _ spoken _ to, human!” The General reached forward and took him by the throat, lifting him off the ground, Anduin struggled and kicked his fatigued legs toward his puny head, good arm clawing at the plated gauntlet.

“Even if I  _ did _ I wouldn’t tell you!” The prince choked out, relieved as the warrior dropped him. He rubbed at his sore throat, coughing and gasping for air. 

“I thought little nosy princes knew everything,” Nazgrim huffed amusedly, turning back. Anduin rolled his eyes.

“I was shipwrecked here,” He clarified, “by  _ your _ fleet, I presume?” He looked nervously out toward the mass of ships docked in what could be scarcely called a harbor. One of the airships seemed oddly familiar, in its reeking stench of kerosene and gunpowder. The General set his hands on his belt and laughed heartily as if he’d told a joke. 

“That was your ship, hm? Good. It’s unfortunate you didn’t perish and rot along with it.” Anduin huffed and backed toward his corner again.  _ I hope Taylor is okay, he must be, if people were sent out to find me _ .  _ I don’t think Master Shaw cares that much, but he’s awfully loyal to Father _ . 

“Get up, boy. You’re my prisoner of war, and I laugh to think how your Alliance will react to seeing you in my custody. They would throw you to the wolves,” he hefted Anduin up by his arm again and pushed him along the path. Anduin spotted his satchel on the side of Nazgrim’s belt now, to probably look through later for anything regarding the Alliance’s position, or anything personal to use against him. What, a compass, some clothes and a few items like a journal and binoculars? Everything in his journal was probably boring, mostly about his training and reminiscing about things… analyzations and such. 

Anduin huddled by his side, knowing if he made a run for it he would surely be shot down by one of the undead archers in the back. Or, Nazgrim could simply let him run and laugh at his poor expense. He would still have his satchel… if there was just a moment for distraction, he could nab it and book it for the forest. 

The constant walking on the cobblestones and the circulation-cutting grip on his arm left Anduin feeling miserable. His bare feet hurt so bad, he was certain the skin would never heal over, and would stay raw for the rest of his earthly days. He was so tired, mentally and physically. Nazgrim seemed like a personality too dense to deal with. He felt… wrong, in a way. He was passionate, obviously, if his demeanor mocked Garrosh so greatly where Anduin almost saw the preening he was doing to himself. It was as if he was proud to represent such a terrible, warmongering person. 

In the distance, he saw a large Jade serpent statue with scaffolding hanging off bits and pieces of the sculpture. It must have taken  _ so long _ to create it. This was their destination, wasn’t it? It would destroy the land itself! 

As the army marched down the road, Anduin saw two Pandaren ahead, one holding two buckets attached by a thin, flexible piece of plywood resting on his back. The other one had sheaves of a wheat crop in a big bag slung around his shoulder. Beside him, Nazgrim halted. The army followed, and then the Pandaren. They looked uncomfortable, and panicked. Anduin tried to free himself from his grip, pleading at the two with his eyes to run. Their gaze shifted to him, and they looked even more terrified. Yes, two strangers meeting an army on the main road with a large green Orc holding a small injured human boy in his clutches would look absolutely alarming to  _ anyone _ . 

He got a terrible feeling of dread and his stomach dropped. Nazgrim raised his right fist slowly, pumping it in the air and clenching it until it turned a pale green. Anduin gulped and mouthed to them ‘run’ as clear as he could. They dropped their items and prepared to sprint away, but before the buckets could spill they were dead on the ground with two arrows in each of their necks. Anduin felt the agony in their spirits rise.  _ They were dead before they hit the ground _ . He inhaled a shaky breath, tears welling in his eyes.  _ How could he just murder them? They didn’t do anything! _

Nazgrim began walking again, and Anduin was so startled he nearly fell to the road. He stumbled to catch up with the warrior, angry and terrified. The grip on his arm was unending, it seemed that Nazgrim refused to let him out of sight. Anduin tried to pull it back, but was met with a harsh squeeze. The priest flinched and didn’t try to free his arm again. It wasn’t going to happen. 

They came up to the clearing, a circular cobblestone road surrounding the area. There was no path toward the Serpent, leaving it the center of attention right smack in the middle of the clearing. The ground was a beautiful green color, no ugly patches of dusty dirt in sight, and perfectly framed by an audience of trees. Anduin stared in wonder and almost forgot about his pain for a while, simply marveling how the land adapted perfectly to the statue, the roads, everything. It was as if the land was one big body, an entire world perched on its back.

“Terrified yet, human?” Nazgrim was an instigator for sure. Anduin rolled his eyes and looked up at him. Fine.

“Completely, General.” He dragged the word in a dry, dead tone. Anduin shuddered. Dead. Like those two…  _ they were so scared _ . 

“Don’t talk back, boy. You’re my prisoner, not my companion.”

“Of course, General.” He sighed, shoulders sagging as the Orc tugged on his arm. 

“Get a move on, whelp!” Nazgrim threw him forward, “Lead us to our Alliance foes, and be prepared to be  _ speared _ for disobedience.” Anduin muttered curses under his breath, hunching over as his shoulder protested his sudden posture. He could see the peak of Alliance flags in the distance, and stopped in his tracks. Were those… Jinyu?  _ Jinyu _ bearing Alliance regalia? His eyes felt as if they bugged out of his head. Had  _ both _ factions managed to befriend old war enemies and put them at arms against each other,  _ again _ ? The Hozen decimated the Jinyu to near extinction, not without extreme effort, but they’d give absolutely nothing in return to kill their enemies again! This was wrong, like--on  _ all _ levels wrong. The Horde and the Alliance were exploiting their hatred for resources! 

“Move!” Large hands pushed him forward, and Anduin peered off toward the Admiral leading the army. He stopped when he looked close enough, and then looked suddenly angry. He drew his sword, sparking so loud Anduin could hear the de-sheathing from all the way across the clearing. He fumbled to stand on his two feet and walked forward. The same hand grasped his collar and forced him to a stop. He nearly choked on the strap of his cloak and kept himself still. He turned his head to look at the General incredulously.  _ You wanted me to move, didn’t you? _ When Anduin looked up again, his eyes were narrowed, glowering in the direction of Taylor.  _ Just let me go, and let them go. Just walk away, there’s no need for this _ , he pleaded silently. He worked up the courage to say something. 

“If you walk away, they walk away. There’s no need for this-” his voice was cut off as his deep green hand shot out suddenly and clamped around his throat like crushing aluminum. Anduin gasped for breath,  _ this again? _ He tried to push his hand away, his raw feet digging through the dirt to back away. An arrow fired past his head, embedding in the shoulder of an Orc warrior, he roared and ripped it out with a spray of blood. It splattered across Anduin’s face as he struggled to escape the hold.

Nazgrim dropped him suddenly and Anduin, with all of his might, kicked his foot out, connecting with the side of the Orc’s knee and causing him to fall. The priest lurched forward and ripped his satchel off of his belt, booking it toward the treeline as soldiers clashed with each other behind him with a loud war cry from both sides. He heard his name called, most likely by Taylor, but ignored it.  _ I’m sorry, but I have to go! _ He had full confidence that Taylor would be just fine. He was an amazing swordsman and a survivor.  _ He’ll be fine, Anduin. Don’t doubt him. He’s fine. You’ll see him soon enough _ . 

He made his way to the top of a steep hill, panting as he finally reached the peak. He looked out toward the valley, watching the Jade Serpent statue crumble in horror as a large monster crawled out of the ground underneath it. From what he could see through his blurry vision, the monster had horns with white tips and white fingertips. It seemed to waft off the creature like smoke.  _ There’s no way either of them could have survived that… Taylor, I’m so sorry… _ He covered his face with his hands.  _ I’m sorry… _

He knelt in mourning for a few moments, only letting a few tears fall down his cheeks. He refused to cry. He didn’t have the time to sit around. He had to get far enough away from the Horde basecamp. It would be dangerous staying in a twenty-mile radius, much less a five-mile. Anduin looked up to the sky, hoping the tears would just fall back into his eyes…  _ If I had stayed… I could have helped him. But I ran _ . Anduin stood, shuddering under his cloak in shock. 

With a heavy, guilty heart, he turned and ran.

* * *

Taylor groaned, backing away from the wall of Jade that separated him and the General. The demon that popped up from inside the Serpent’s gem-like crust had laid waste to the small valley.  _ Was that Anduin? I swear to the gods that it was _ . The boy that laid in Nazgrim’s clutches, rich blue cloak torn and bloody, the red bandages wrapped loosely around his chest, his overall ragged appearance. It was Anduin. It had to be. No other Alliance boy could manage to look as shell-shocked as Anduin when he saw him.

The boy had kicked Nazgrim in the knee and sprinted to the forest,  _ clever little scamp _ , with his satchel. It could have been for his own safety. He might blame himself for not helping himself and the Jinyu. He might have figured they had the battle covered, considering their numbers. The priest could probably feel the rage coming off of the fish-men. Unfortunately it had all gone to waste. The training, the weaponry, the friendship. All of it. They simply… perished. 

_ Wherever you are, boy, you’d better stay alive… I’m coming for you… _ Taylor’s eyes slipped shut as his chest ached, a sluggish ooze falling from his temple. 

* * *

Varian stole a look out at Stormwind as he stepped through the portal from Paw’don village. The Pandaren there appreciated the Alliance’s efforts to stave the Horde off from stealing rations, materials and such, as well as protecting the village in general. The Pandaren had said they had become a nuisance since they refused to house them, or help them. Varian took no surprise. Garrosh would order his soldiers to do whatever was necessary for the mission. It was arrogant and foolish.

He walked back into the keep and to his office, ready to wind down and do paperwork rather than meetings and constructive reports from the Marshals. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling his brows ache from a mild headache. Hangovers were never good for the soul, nor the brain… Or his stomach. He grimaced, feeling the distinct taste of bile and wine on the back of his tongue. 

“King Varian,” it was Archbishop Benedictus, head of the Cathedral of Light and an avid teacher of his young son. 

“Benedictus,” he greeted tiredly, “what is it?”

“Word has gotten out that Anduin is missing, presumed dead. Many come to the Cathedral for answers and the Nobles are worried about appearances now that Anduin is… gone.” Varian tensed, eyes narrowing. 

“Appearances? I don’t care for appearances, Archbishop, I want to know if he’s alive!”

“They’re worried we’re going to have a riot on our hands! Do you not remember the incident only fourteen years ago?” Varian recoiled angrily. How dare he bring up the death of his wife! The warrior turned to confront the man face-to-face, but found himself in front of a pleading bishop. “All your citizens want are updates, they want to know if he’s okay, or if he was found. But the Nobles are trying to orchestrate damage control. Face it, Varian, without Anduin here many business deals made to Stormwind and especially social appearances are gone without him. The people view your son as a Golden Boy, he’s the face of House Wrynn! It’s a PR disaster, Varian!” Benedictus' face was turning red, he was angry as well. But Varian could see he was inadvertently terrified. Not many were brave enough to go against the ghost of Lo’gosh. The warrior felt the urge to yell and scream rise, but he took a long, deep breath to calm himself. 

Anduin would always be there to calm him when it looked bad, when he was going to have one of his outbursts. A calming hand on his arm, a hug if they were in private. He cherished those small moments, and now he was so far away. Hurt, possibly, but refusing to come home. Varian sighed through his nose and shook his head. 

“He’s… tell them that he’s fine, but he is trying to help the natives in our effort against the Horde.” He finalized, feeling defeated. He walked over and slumped down into his chair, popping the cap of a nearby whiskey off with the thumb of his plate gauntlets. Benedictus sighed, clenching his hat in his hands. 

“Light be with him, the boy, I’ve no doubt that’s what he’s currently doing.” The bishop nodded to him and exited the office.  _ I don’t either. Knowing Anduin, he’d jump at the chance to help a squirrel. _ He took a deep swig of the whiskey, reveling in the bitter taste. It’d been a long time since he’d consumed alcohol; save for the wine last night. He was persuaded to stop for a long time by Jaina. After his slump on non-stop liquor binges and depression, he’d managed to pull himself together, for his and Anduin’s sake. He was falling again. Without the constant surrounding of his friends and family Varian began to crumble. He relished time spent with Genn or Broll, both like brothers to him. He had no family left except for his alienated son. 

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the familiar slug he usually slipped into during his times alone. It was a muddy mix between personalities, brimming with rage or longing for contact. There was hardly a medium. The warrior rubbed his forehead tiredly, taking another longer swig. It burned as it crawled down his chest into his gullet. Spiraling down into the depths of alcoholism would send Anduin further away. Did his boy think he was a lost cause? He probably would once he saw the mess his father had become again. 

After years of trying to mend the bond between them, he would go and break it all for the taste of something that would throw him back into the violence he swore to lock away. He swore to never hurt anyone again, he swore to Anduin he’d never lay a hand on him again. 

A promise broken many times. 

It was as if he couldn’t control himself, some sort of out-of-body experience, like watching himself from afar. And he was helpless to stop it unless it was brought to rest. Anduin did that fairly well, always calm and collected as well as he could manage cornered by a wolf of a man with a mammoth-sized greatsword glowing in his rage. It was strange to think Shalamayne increased her power with his anger. But couldn’t she recognize family? Couldn’t she try and persuade him to stop? 

Varian took a longer swig, ignoring the drip of whiskey that spilled from the corner of his mouth. He leaned heavily against his desk, head drooped and brows furrowed with unshed tears behind his lids.  _ My son. I’m so sorry. If only I could make up what I’ve done to you, and what’s been done to me. _ His boy was forced to grow up so fast, he’d forgotten who he was and embraced who he was  _ supposed _ to be. Varian was terrified he would never change and forever be stuck in the tormenting loop of; put on a smile, work, and then sleep; until he perished. He wished it wasn’t that easy.

_ Children _ , he mused, glancing over at a photo taken by a gnomish camera. Younger versions of himself and Anduin were smiling by the fountain in Cathedral Square, the boy sitting along the rim of the fountain and swinging his legs with Varian’s hand on his shoulder. Mekkatorque caught them by surprise, but he still had a happy, goofy grin.  _ They grow up too fast _ .  _ I wonder what his smile looks like now _ .  _ Bright, hopefully, and genuine.  _ He cradled the photo frame in his hand and ran his finger across the glass. Smiling bitterly, he put it face down on the desk, chugging the rest of the small bottle and tossing it haphazardly across the carpet. 

“More work for the servants?” A gruff voice called from the door, knocking softly. Varian looked up with half-lidded eyes. 

“I pay them,” He countered, his mind too blurry to form a quick rebuttal. When his eyes focused again he saw the ever-grim face of Genn Greymane. “What do you need, Greymane?”

“You’re too smashed to form a paragraph, let alone a meeting. Don’t worry, I canceled the rest for the night. I figured you would end up like this, don’t think I didn’t see that pathetic look on your face,” Yes, Genn Greymane, the gruffest dog you’d ever meet but be pleasantly surprised to find out he liked sweet tea and marigolds, as well as petting stray cats. 

“I’m not  _ smashed _ . It wasn’t even that big of a bottle,” Varian rolled his eyes and moved to fetch it from the floor. The worgen king was faster, though, and had it dropped on his desk in only a moment. He leaned against the mahogany and stared down at the warrior with disappointment. 

“Anduin would be upset you’re drinking again, you know he hates when you’re drunk-”

“Anduin isn’t  _ here _ to say anything.” Varian snapped. His shoulders slumped back into the cushions of the chair. “He’s isn’t here to be afraid, either.” Genn raised a furry eyebrow, thumbing his grey-bearded chin. 

“Why do you think he got you to stop in the first place?” He questions were always like riddled. Varian was quickly growing annoyed. 

“Because he cares about my health?” He guessed, smacking his fist into the arm of the chair. Genn was unfazed. 

“I suppose that’s true. He doesn’t want to feel afraid of you either, that’s another. And… well, what do you call it-” Genn snapped his fingers, eyes looking to the sky as he thought hard for a moment, “-hearsay! Right, the rumors, the lies. Many people are still out for you, Varian. I think he’s trying to keep you alive for more reasons than just your heart or your liver.” 

“That’s what I have a sword and guards for,” Varian pinched his nose, shaking his head roughly as it grew increasingly fuzzy. “He doesn’t need to worry about my safety. There have been more attempts on  _ his _ life than mine, surprisingly, if battlefields don’t count.” 

“I suppose if you could call an entourage of armed barbarians guards, you could define anything as safe.” Varian raised an eyebrow. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“How are you supposed to know if he’s safe all the time? He’s probably safer out there than in here.” 

“Genn, that’s absolutely ridiculous and you know it,” the worgen smiled. He was in an unusually good mood. 

“Maybe. I suppose it depends on what you think safe is, my friend.” 

Varian stood and collected his gauntlet, leaving the room without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay... so definitely not going to be able to write for a while after the 14th. Sorry guys, I'll find a way though I swear...


	6. Zhu's Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin accompanies a courier to the Temple of the Red Crane and it goes awry. Khantis and Verild have a failed conversation.

Anduin coughed as the wagon rocked against the bumpy ground, jostling his shoulder. He groaned and grit his teeth, huddling up against the outside of the dray as his feet dangled meters from the ground. The yak pulling the cart along bellowed a low howl, snorting soon after as the wagon drifted to the peak of the steep hill. The priest clutched the side of the cart, creased cheek pressed into the post of the wood. 

_ It’s bleeding again _ , he sighed, pressing his hand into the bandaged skin gently and feeling the dampness transition to his fingers. He hissed and pulled it away quickly.  _ Light damn it. Why won’t my abilities work? _ He tried hard to focus again, nails clenched into the wood as sore, healing muscles flexed in pain as he tried to heal it again, pushing his hand hard into the skin, praying furiously. No matter how hard he tried, the Light refused his call.  _ Velen… oh how I wish you were here.. You’d know what to do… _ He didn’t have enough strength at the moment to fix it manually with all the herbs he was given, and he felt compelled to stay silent on the generous ride this family of merchants had so graciously given him. 

_ I can fix this. I can, I just need time _ . He thought back to the materials he had, bandages, that poultice, other herbs. He could fix his shoulder and be okay again, hardly any pain.. Well… a lot of pain to  _ get _ there, but after it would be smooth sailing!  _ I just need to rest, then I can work on this…  _ He let his bloodied palm fall into his lap, head hanging and pressed back into the wood.  _ This hurts _ … He pulled his bad arm away and cradled it close to his chest, painful pricks stabbing into his shoulder as he jostled the injured muscle slightly. 

“Are you alright back there? You look tense!” A friendly voice called back to him, and he nodded, only glancing back slightly at the house of the wagon with light and a warm-smelling soup wafting out the window. His stomach growled, and he curled in on himself.  _ I’ve already imposed by asking for transportation. You can find your own food, Wrynn!  _ His stomach rumbled again, more insistent, and he squeezed his eyes shut.  _ I’ve suffered worse. Stop complaining! I’m not hungry. _ If he kept telling himself that, the feeling would eventually fade. 

“Well, we’re coming up on the next town. That’s as far as we can take you.” He said this only after a few moments of awkward silence, and Anduin turned fully, smiling as he cradled his arm. 

“Thank you!” The Pandaren smiled, but it came more as a grimace.  _ I do look sketchy. I didn’t think I came off as that sort… I hope I didn’t… I don’t want to scare anyone _ . Anduin sighed as the rocky cart came to a stop. He clutched his satchel strap with his cradled arm and hopped down, nodding to them again as he limped toward the town on the muddy, gravelly path. 

The sky was so dark it mimicked the void, rarely feeling the essence of night in the original aura of life in the mountains and ponds. Anduin threw his hood up quickly as it began to sprinkle, staring up at the thick layer of thunderhead clouds that rumbled overhead. A tiny flicker of lightning lit up in the sudden cacophony of thunder, and Anduin felt a sense of dread fill him suddenly as he entered the town. 

It had a sad look, rain pouring steadily over the soaked wood buildings with bamboo rooves bowing in on the buildings, no doubt leaking into the inside. There were scarce amounts of trees, and a massive lake that was close to the town. So big he could see it miles from the forest, denying the spark of the moonlight upon its waves. It was torrential and brash, choppy waters soaking the land as the clouds hunched over the cluster of cottages. 

Anduin approached the inn-looking building and pushed the door open, feeling the chill sweep in as he scrambled to shut the door against forceful winds. Was the weather alive too? He pulled his arm close to himself as he looked over to a Pandaren sitting by a bar. The distinct smell of freshly cooked noodles reached his nose, but he sighed when he realized he had no money. He sat down at a table in the corner by the fire, awkwardly ignoring the innkeeper’s miffed gaze as he pulled the wooden jar and bandages out of the bag. 

He opened the wooden jar, unwrapping the bloodied gauze from his shoulder. Anduin hissed as it tugged against the sticky scabs that had just formed. He unclasped his cloak and kept it slung over one side, crumpling up the bad bandages and stuffing them into his satchel, scooping up the poultice on his fingers.  _ I can’t reach my back. Shoot _ .  _ Wait, can I?  _ He stretched his arm over his back and left a gloop of it on the entrance wound. Hissing, he spread it over the exit wound, and felt the disinfectant in the leaves sting and bubble against the wood. The oils in the poultice were discharged immediately, falling down his arm like yellowish water. 

_ How am I going to wrap this… I kinda need a gauze pad to keep it safe from infection and stuff.. _ . He rummaged through his satchel, but found nothing. Disappointed, he reached for the roll of gauze, cringing as the smooth cream and crusts of blood rubbed against his skin. His fingers ached as he pulled against the roll of thick, sticky gauze. It wasn’t the cloth kind, soft and rippable.  _ This is probably meant more for soldiers, when their shins hurt or something. Athlete’s wrap?  _ He grit his teeth as he stuck it to his underarm and wrapped it up and over, making sure to fold it under his armpit.  _ It won’t stay up like that, sticky how it is… this is going to hurt for a while _ . Especially with no gauze pads taking off the wrap would hurt like the seven hells. 

He blinked tears of pain away as he ripped the wrap, folding it under his arm again as he stuffed the roll back into his satchel, as well as the poultice.  _ Thank you, Lina _ .  _ I don’t know why the Light refuses my presence, but thank you _ . He rummaged through the satchel again, pulling out a soft yellow shirt. He pulled it over his chilled body and stuck the clasps of his cloak back together. Pulling his hood down, he leaned back against the table.  _ To a Celestial, huh? Everything’s been so fast. I haven’t had time to think or formulate _ .  _ I should talk to someone, but that Innkeeper doesn’t seem fond of talking… _ He snuck a glance under his hood, seeing the angry gaze now directed out the window.  _ He must not get many customers… me included.  _ Anduin had no money to offer him, even for simply walking in. He felt bad. 

_ Shoot- I made a mess, too _ . He looked down at his dirty feet.  _ Whoops _ … His head shot up as the door opened again, ready to run if need be. He’d heard plenty from the merchants that there were Horde champions and mercenaries wandering Pandaria as well as Alliance. He wasn’t worried about Alliance champions trying to kill him, though.

Another Pandaren, an orange cape donned on his shoulders with a rather large sack tied around his protruding middle. 

“Making another delivery, Lee?” The man laughed and slapped two coins down onto the table. 

“I hope I am, I’d be out of a job if I didn’t!” The grumpy innkeeper smiled slightly, face briefly flickering over to his. Anduin flinched away at being caught staring, his face flushed as he turned back to the table, hearing the hearth flicker but the heat so far away. Anduin shivered, tucking his satchel in his lap. 

“One customer, Sho? Is that a new record?” 

“Not exactly paying, courier. Poor boy stumbled in with the shivers and the case of an injury.” Despite how quiet they were being, Anduin could hear them perfectly. The innkeeper probably assumed he was too shaken to focus on them. “I don’t know what he’s looking for, but maybe it’s a fire from all of this rain. He soaked to the brim.”  _ You’re not wrong.  _ Anduin grimaced as his clothes, feeling the cold, wet condensation under his shirt. 

The door opens again, and a female Pandaren hurries in with a shawl over her head, slipping it off of her head as she walks inside. 

“Good evening, Sho. Lee! It is good to see you again,” Her voice gave great combat to the dreary atmosphere of the town, a cheery tone overtaking the depressing feel of the place. Anduin felt better when there were people around in good moods. If she hadn’t arrived… he’d probably be stuck in the slump that these people were so easily. 

“Oh, hello! Are you a traveler?” He heard the voice directed his way and glanced over to find six pairs of eyes on him. He felt the sweat run down his temple, suddenly feeling the intense heat flickering from the hearth in front of him. 

“Um… yes… I heard about the Celestials through my travels, and was trying to find them,” He spoke quietly, reaching over and clutching his satchel. 

“Come here, you look chilled to the bone! Sho’s noodles are very delicious! Well- when he’s in the mood the  _ make _ them, that is,” The panda sitting by the bar scoffed. 

“Everyone here is so rude! Setting up shop here was a terrible mistake. I’d have better luck at the Temple!” He argued, folding his arms. 

“Thank you, but I have no money on me. I’ll have to politely decline,” he could feel his stomach rumbling quietly in argument as he spoke.  _ Quiet. Business is rough here, there’s no need to steal. I’m trained to survive out here anyways, Shaw would have me dead if I hadn’t used the skills he taught me. I’m just… squeamish.  _ Anduin noted the sad look on her face. 

“That’s… too bad. I’m sorry…” She seemed to be looking over him like a concerned mother. Anduin cringed. It was terribly awkward. 

“Anyways,” Lee began, “if you’re headed for a Celestial I’m on my way to deliver to the Temple of the Red Crane,”

“Red Crane?”

“Oh yes, Chi-ji! He is the embodiment of hope and peace in our people. He once helped our late emperor Shouhou find his way in his darkest times!” Mei butt in, sitting at the bar with Sho right behind it, serving her tea as she placed two silvers on the counter. “The Crane Wing Order are many of our people who have come together and devoted themselves to be Chi-ji’s servants, or monks under his tutelage. They are very friendly, but deadly if need be.” She sipped her tea, sighing in content. Sho seemed genuinely happy for their presence. Anduin clutched the strap of his satchel, cradling his arm over the top of the bag. 

“Do you mind if I accompany you?” He asked Lee, whom perked up upon him asking. He smiled and nodded. 

“Of course! I could never deny a traveling partner. Being a courier gets awfully lonely- at least I get discounts at most of the inns now…” He chuckled warmly. Anduin felt better in the two-Mei and Lee’s- presence. They were lighter than the burden carried by the town here that seemed to be spiraling further into a depression. There were none out in the town due to the heavy rainfall. Lee bid the two Pandaren a quick goodbye and gestured for Anduin to follow him. 

“We will be taking the eastward path out of town toward the Temple. The tigers in these forests have been getting worse. I’ve been able to stave them off, but it’ll be nice to have someone who has my back. Sho said you were injured, but you can still fight, can you not?” Anduin nodded quickly as they set into a pace beside each other. Anduin hardly keeping up due to his general fatigue, and the sense of anxiety from the Pandaren left him on edge as he blindly followed the courier through the woods. 

In the black of the night it was hard to discern the edge of the road from the woods, but the occasional plump lantern would help light the way, moths and little bugs orbiting around the luminous glow. Wild vines were growing up the sides of the posts each time they passed, blooming little flowers that seemed to welcome the moons’ gaze. Folding its little delicate leaves back in offer of a nightlight’s hug. The trees blanketed most of the moon from their walk, which left the atmosphere tense. Anduin stuck a little closer to his companion, noticing him doing the same. It was nice to take solace in each other despite being strangers.  _ Everyone is so friendly here… I hope our war doesn’t ruin their welcoming attitude _ .  _ Another land scarred to the point of no return? Sounds like the Old God’s work _ … His mind blanked as they walked, slowly feeling more and more relaxed. The smell of the sweet green leaves secreting glucose away from the hot sun. 

He flinched and stopped abruptly at the sound of a sudden crash from bushes deep into the forest, Lee drawing his crimped longsword beside him. Anduin, feeling the Light call back to his fingers, let the warmth seep through him as holy fire drew into his palms.  _ It’s good to have you back, old friend. What happened? Something about that town…  _ His mind wandered briefly as he scanned the treeline with tired eyes. 

“Tigers again?” Lee questioned more to himself than Anduin. He tipped his sword out toward the forest, green eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed. Another rumbling crack came from their backs.

“Behind us, now!” Lee warned frantically as another round of low pitched growls came from behind him. Anduin kept his eyes out front as Lee protected the back, both ready to take anything on. It all happened so fast Anduin could barely comprehend it. 

From what he could count in a second there were several-maybe eight tigers that leaped out at once. So thin their ribs showed through their patchy fur. Their eyes were a feral yellow, pupils reduced to a thin slit in the middle of the iris. Their vein-popped sabers were bared, tongues salivating and ready to dine. Anduin rolled under the leap of the first tiger that tried to maim him, its body flopping against the cobblestone road. 

“Run!” Lee shouted, fending off two with his broadsword, pushing them back into the trees. “They’re too much for us to handle-get to the Temple! Get to safety!”

Anduin pushed forward toward the Pandaren, narrowly dodging a frenzied feline as it charged toward him. He summoned a shield around the two of them,  smiting the nearest tiger. It scrambled up, claws scraping against the small divots of rocks as it roared and slashed into the barrier. Anduin reinforced it as Lee stabbed one through the shield. A paw broke through, shattering it like glass as Anduin took the brunt of the blow, sending him to the ground. 

“Go! We’re overwhelmed-I can keep them off, run!”

“I’m not just going to leave you here!” Anduin shot up and cast a shield over the Pandaren and himself, the tiger bouncing off the thin barrier in its haste for a meal. They were becoming very frustrated with the resistance of their future meal. The tigers regrouped and piled up against them, forming a sort of barricade. Anduin looked behind them and saw a steep hill rolling down into another pitched valley.

“You must go!” Lee insisted, clenching the sword in both hands as the tigers tensed and readied themselves to pounce together.  _ Incredible coordination for animals so pack-hungry _ .  _ We’ll have to test our luck and run, my shield probably won’t last that long, but it’s worth a shot! _

He reached forward to grab Lee’s hand, but the Pandaren shoved him back into the treeline instead, tripping over a root as twigs and thorns scratched against his skin, tearing his clothes. He let out a shout as he smacked against a rock, sending him tumbling all over again. Everything was a blur, pain aching all over his body. He grasped for anything to make him stop rolling, but only managed to cut his fingers.

Anduin groaned as he slid to a stop under a crooked blossom tree, curling in on himself as dirt and gravel settled over his skin like a fine layer of dust. He dragged his arm forward, reaching for the dagger that slipped out of his satchel. Clenching the blade in his fist weakly he fell unconscious.

* * *

Khantis grumbled as his brother pulled the bastard sword from the dead Sunwalker’s body. He accepted the blade with a jerky nod as they walked back to the Night Elves architect camp. The forest was incredibly dark at the current hour with trees blanketing the moon from view. Verild held a ball of flame in his wide palm, standing just as tall beside his fraternal brother.

“Why are you so grumpy, brother?”

Dodging the question, he looked out toward the dimly lit treeline. Various birds in the distance chirped in a disturbing pitch, the fluttering of wings distracting him for a few moments.

In a dazed tone, Khantis slowly turned his head back to his brother. 

“What did that innkeeper tell you?” Verild signed through his nose, annoyed. He transferred the fire to his right hand and reached back into his pouch, pulling out a crumpled map. 

“He said Anduin went to the Temple of the Red crane accompanying a courier. But we just found that courier dead only half an hour ago. So, now we’re here. Helping a historian.”

“Did you find anything in the courier’s satchel?”

“Just food supplies and a list,” He reached back and grabbed the bloody satchel from his belt. “When we get there we might as well give it to them. It must be a shipment list, like a pickup zone. It is a monastery, after all. It must have students to feed and chefs to employ,” Verild shrugged as Khantis took the satchel and attached it to his own belt. 

“When we get back we give them the report and leave. I don’t want to waste any more time there than we have. Anduin could be dead for all we know, but checking the Temple shouldn’t hurt.” Verild nodded in agreement. 

“So if the courier was dead and traveling on foot, what are the odds Anduin abandoned him in the middle of the fight?” Khantis tone was tired and weary. He was exhausted after spending the day chasing after a wiry priest with no sense of self-preservation.

Looking a little offended, Verild raised his brow bone. 

“Are you joking or is that a legitimate question?” 

“I don’t know, I just want to figure out if he was hurt and we didn’t know it or if he ran away. I wouldn’t be surprised. He is a child, and children get scared easily.” Khantis offered blatantly. The mage pinched his nose and shook his head.

“There was fresh blood and old blood on the stones, and what looks like a dent in a few bushes behind the courier. Maybe he fell down the hillside by accident and saw the courier die?” 

“Who knows, brother.” 

“Why are you acting so callous?” Verild stopped walking and turned to the warrior. He was brash and hearty. Not dreary and aloof. Especially about the prince. The boy was as apart of their lives as they were to each other. Where was this sudden attitude coming from?

“Why aren’t you?”

“You’ll have to explain, Khantis.” 

“He’s being a fool. He’s putting himself in danger for something we can’t access! If he could just talk to us-talk to his  _ father _ -”

“The boy’s father is the reason he hasn’t returned with us, otherwise, don’t you think he would have come back to Stormwind by now?”

“He has no reason to be afraid of him! He’s smart enough to tell us if he  _ was _ hurt by him or anything else!” Khantis ranted angrily. “The  _ only time _ I’ve ever heard Varian hurt him was before he left for training. He fractured his wrist, but nothing else has been said by then!” 

“Velen healed that.” 

“Yes, Verild, I was told.” He sounded angrier and angrier with every word. “I can’t explain why I’m like this right now. It’s hard to put into words.” Verild put a hand on his pauldron, pursing his lips. 

“We’ll find him, brother. Don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of short. I'm developing a bit of writers block again, sorry guys. Hope you enjoyed!


	7. The Temple of Chi-ji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin finds himself waking up in a very fancy pagoda and has a nice conversation with his new teacher. Tyrande and Varian come to a revelation regarding his son.

Anduin puled as the pain hit him all at once, his shoulder ached intensely as well as the rest of his body. He cringed and went to push himself up, but found himself stuck with his aching muscles and gritty joints. The gunshot wound between neck and arm itched irritably, a white-hot burning pain that sent spikes into his chest. He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth and willed his crusted-shut eyes open. 

He found himself staring up at an arched cream-colored ceiling, a blurry lantern hanging just out of view giving out a warm glow that made him feel dreamy. It was a soft-feeling room, calming him immediately before he began to panic. A floral jasmine incense filled his dry nose, providing his lungs with moisture as he took in deep breaths. 

“I see you’re awake and relaxed. Can you tell me where it hurts?” Anduin turned his head slowly at the sudden voice and blinked rapidly as the Pandaren came into focus. She was wearing a soft green robe, and the same color of flowing mist was leaking from her palms into his shoulder. It was soothing and made him relax easier, resting his head as he looked up at her with half-lidded eyes. 

“Tai! Come here, I need that brew. And don’t make it so strong! He looks young,”

He heard heavy footsteps approach as Tai hovered over him next to the healer. She reached a paw out toward him and lifted his head, slipping something firm underneath it. 

“Drink this, you’ll feel a lot better,” she took the fragile bowl and brought it to his lips, cupping his chin carefully as he drank the minty brew reluctantly. The tincture spilled down his chin as she pulled it away suddenly, leaving him with a gross taste in his mouth. “Don’t like mint, hmm? Me neither.” She smiled and gently wiped the excess liquid from his chin with a soft cloth. 

The blend worked efficiently, wiping the pain off of his face as he leaned up slightly from the bed. The healer didn’t try to stop him and gave him a sad look. 

“Uh.. hello..” He mumbled, ducking his head as they stared him down with concern. 

“How are you feeling? Can you tell me what you remember?” She asked, resting a paw on his bandaged arm, moving it carefully to lay over his stomach. Tai moved a few plush pillows behind his back that helped him sit up without having to strain his sore, abused muscles. Anduin closed his eyes for a minute, feeling his blank mind go blindingly white, heating up behind his eyes as he strained for a minute. He remembered falling, being pushed.. The courier? He shot up suddenly, yelling as it aggravated his wounds. Anduin grit his teeth and tried to stand, but the two kept trying to push him back down as carefully as they could. 

“The Pandaren-Lee, the courier! He was going to, going to-” Tai hushed him as he was pushed into the bedroll, warm paw on his aching shoulder, thankfully not his injured one… Anduin blinked sluggishly as the medicinal effects of the minty caffeine wore off quicker than he expected. Well… she did tell him not to make it strong...

“Lee… Lee is dead, boy,” His rumbly voice reverberated in his frail body through his paw, and Anduin slumped back against the pillows with a swell in his throat. 

“He pushed me… he pushed me to help me get away, but I fell back and down the hill… I tried to help him. He wouldn’t let me!” It was hard to talk around the terrible ache in his chest, tears welling in his eyes as he remembered the drooling, ferocious faces of the tigers that ambushed them. Every barrier they broke through with fervor, hunger glistening in their slit pupils. Anduin slowly brought a shaky hand up to press his into his eyes, static coming across his vision. His bruised eyes felt heavy and tired, but the sudden shock of Lee’s death and his anxiety ramping, Anduin fought to stay awake. 

“Lee was a good man, he cared for the strangest of strangers. He died a warrior’s death, and you should not take guilt for that,” Tai soothed, encouraging more of the brew into his mouth as his healer friend padded off somewhere. “Nadaya will take good care of you, she is a skilled healer. And a friend to many,” Anduin swallowed nervously and nodded, curling his arms tighter around his stomach. 

Nadaya came back a few minutes later with food, the smell of noodles causing his stomach to rumble loudly. Anduin flushed, embarrassed but also  _ very _ hungry. Nadaya smiled and laughed, handing him the noodles and a pair of chopsticks. He wasn’t very skilled with them, but his time with Lina and Ren gave him a little practice. He felt a little self-conscious, eating in front of people wasn’t his forte and he made an effort not to have dinner with any of the nobles like they always wanted him too. The two Pandaren seemed to notice his hesitation when given the bowl and turned to busy themselves. Anduin secretly appreciated it as he began to scarf down the noodles. 

He hadn’t eaten in  _ days _ , too skeptical of any of the plants and animals to event attempt any kind of foraging. He had no doubt he became a little bony... It would take a while to build most of his muscle again. He could hardly care what the food tasted like, he just wanted to  _ eat _ . 

“I’m glad you liked it,” Nadaya chuckled, “I can get more if you’d like?” Anduin shook his head and handed her the bowl. It wasn’t a good idea to eat a lot if you hadn’t eaten for a long time. It could really hurt your body. He could feel his stomach expanding from where it had shrunk, and he felt immediately better with food in his belly- if not a little sick from eating too fast. He sighed and rested his chin on top of his knees, shoulder numb and wounds achy. 

“I came here looking for a celestial…” their heads snapped up at that. “Do either of you know who Chi-Ji is?” Tai laughed hard and loud, smacking his stomach. 

“You were coming with Lee to the monastery, yes?” Anduin nodded. “Here you are! Chi-ji is in the basement of the temple! He is the embodiment of hope, and we look to him for guidance as a favor for us protecting him from the Mogu, and from our enemies. He protects the Wilds and the Valley of the Four Winds.”

“Can… can I speak to him?” He asked tentatively, hugging his arms under his thighs. 

“That is why you came here?” Anduin nodded, rocking forward a bit until the brew wore off again. That stuff went through you quick… “Well, he resides in the basement of this temple.” Anduin perked up quickly and raised an eyebrow, confused. 

“Wait... Lee told me-isn’t he a crane? Don’t birds like to be up high?” 

“Yes, he is strange. But we have no clear answer to that.”

“And you would just  _ let _ me see him? That easily?” Nadaya shrugged. 

“He does not refuse any visitors, unlike some other Celestials. He’s very open and kind, he will never turn a sundered soul away. If you are feeling better, we may just be able to take you to him. It is just early morning now,” She gestured for him to try to stand, offering a paw. He clasped his fingers around hers and moved to the side, managing to stand on his weak, wobbly legs. It felt like it had been millennia since he stood on his own two feet. 

“It’s alright if you need help, you were asleep for a while, and your body was weak. Here, use my arm.” He looked down and saw he was only wearing his pants. He looked around for his shirt and found his satchel sitting in a corner on a polished end table that was low to the ground. “Your shirt was practically ruined, you know, so we threw it out. I will get you a new one while you speak with Chi-Ji.”

“Um… alright, yes- thank... Thank you.” He cleared his throat and curled his hand around her elbow, walking forward with her shakily. It just felt awkward walking around without a shirt on. There were hardly any guards, she was right, it was very early in the morning. But at the same time… being exposed like this… didn’t feel  _ right _ . He curled an arm across his waist and hunched over a little as Nadaya helped him walk. He was starting to get little tingles on the balls of his feet, and he knew he would be able to walk by himself soon. He let go of her arm, wobbling a little, and followed her through the tall, arching halls. The fresh morning air was nice and cool despite the slight stick of humidity. Cranes of all colors, blue and red among brown and white. They were relaxed on a pond with tiny skitterers floating upon the surface around them. 

He looked out toward the hall again and found her waiting by the stairs. He startled himself, not realizing he’d stopped moving. She was smiling warmly and waiting for him patiently. He went to step forward but glanced out again at the overarching, widely open hall of what he assumed to be a pagoda temple. He folded his arms close to his body, the echoey halls reflecting how small he really felt. He hadn’t realized how  _ dirty _ he felt to simply stand… barefoot, begrudgingly, in such a regal palace. 

He padded toward the stairs quickly and trotted down them, his hands trembling slightly. Why did he want to come here again? Ah, yes, the possibility of him being introduced to more information about this… Vale. A cure to all ailments, maybe not just that- but a new way to help, to heal. This could help so many if what he was chasing wasn’t just a fable. 

The large, concrete doors opened with a swift ball of green mist from Nadaya’s paw and did not make a sound as they opened slowly and surely, the sight of a large red crane preening itself, curled in the middle of the stone room. It wasn’t cold in the slightest, in fact, Chi-Ji seemed to be radiating a comforting warmth that caused him to relax almost instantly. At a heart-beat pace, he began to breathe. His own warmth within the Light grew cold in his chest as the comforting, foggy mist moved in and filled him like a cloud. He felt as if he could fly… 

“Healer Nadaya, what brings you to my sanctuary?” 

“I bring you a foreign boy who has traveled dangerously far to speak with you.” 

“I see… give us privacy, please.” 

She was gone almost instantly, the stone doors closing with a deep thump that resonated, like a bell. It felt so harmonizing to be in the room, but also wary. He had no idea what the crane’s true intentions were. But… he felt an overwhelming sense of power and knelt in front of the crane as he stood on his long, clawed legs. 

“Why have you come to seek me, child?”

Anduin opened his mouth to reply but found nothing he could say graspable.  _ I shipwrecked here and ran away from my father to find out about a Vale with healing powers that may or may not exist! Sorry, do you know anything about that? _ He thought for a moment. 

“The Vale. I… heard that you knew about it. And… I would like to learn more about Pandaria…” He could smack himself with how dumb and tired he sounded. 

“You seem confused, child, and injured. You came here so suddenly, in a dream, I wondered how I would receive new visitors. This was not one I imagined. You wish to learn about this Vale, yet you know almost nothing about this continent you so abruptly found yourself in, scared and alone. Yet you are running from safety. Why?” 

“I…” He clenched his eyes shut as his vision ran slightly blurry. He thought back to his father- how  _ angry _ he would no doubt be once Anduin returned. “I don’t know. This… this place has awoken something in me that I haven’t felt in a very long time… I just… don’t. Know.. what that is, per se.” He finished lamely, head ducked as he looked to the crane’s feet. He felt so insignificant, like he was the tiniest pebble in the pond. He couldn’t skip as far, but he’d tried… and then sank to the bottom. 

“Do not fret, young lion,” his head snapped up. What… “Your path lies strong and steady, though in your heart you fear that you are changing. But do not lose hope, for the cub that you are the lion you will become is true. But take heed, broken are the bodies wherein hopeless hearts reside - the blight of despair strikes forth from the inside. Your Light will never change you, but do not let it rearrange you. To heal and restore is what you seek, but in this truth, you will become meek.” He crawled back to his center and laid back down. “To be gentle is not a sin, though others may disagree. I find it a strength to be tender. Study and train under my students. You will learn what it truly means to be a cleric of your powerful caliber.” He rested his head back on the stone, and Anduin stood up, completely floored.  He turned back to find Nadaya waiting for him with a big smile, almost like she was holding back laughter. 

“So,” she inquired, “are you still hungry?” 

* * *

“King Wrynn,” Tyrande greeted, hands clasped politely behind her back as she bowed her head to the obviously, once again, hungover king. “My scouts report a conglomerate of Horde forces in the northwestern part of the Jade Forest, and that Serpent’s Heart has been destroyed by a Sha Demon. Apparently, Admiral Taylor used his friendship within the Jinyu to rally them on our side, while the Horde did the same with the Hozen. It was… bloody. We are unsure of Admiral Taylor’s whereabouts,” She reported dutifully. Varian looked… exhausted, with bags under his eyes and his face unshaven. He looked more rugged than usual, and it was showing. His posture, his attitude. Everything. 

“Have they seen him?” Tyrande softened. His voice was quiet and hoarse. 

“We have… he is injured, but alive. But he is too quick for our scouts to capture. Now, we know he’s inside a monastery, but we have not acted yet. Would you like my scouts to retrieve him?” 

“If you can. Just… be..” he looked confused for a moment, “gentle?” He finished questioningly. Tyrande nodded. 

“Do you think you have figured out  _ why _ he doesn’t want to come back?” She asked carefully, seating herself in the chair adjacent to his desk in the keep of Lion’s Landing. 

“Yes, actually… I’ve… I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Not much else I can do, really.” Tyrande waved her hand for him to proceed. “It’s probably because of Onyxia.” He sighed, scrubbing his face with his cold, gauntleted hand. She grimaced. The Black Dragonflight. Disgusting creatures that spread corruption within themselves… She shook her head. “Anduin used to tell me what she would do to him… and one of those things was…” he stopped as if it was too painful for him to say. “Well… she used to isolate him, from everyone. Anything. She would lock him in some sort of closet and leave him there for hours, days on ends. If the whole keep wasn’t ensorcelled then maybe someone could have helped him, but… no. Apparently, it was one of the closets on the basement floor. It was terribly cold down there… he’s vulnerable to sickness, now. It’s… it can get pretty bad.” His fists were clenched tight, the metal creaking under his anger. “I don’t want to say that  _ he _ is weak because of her. But… she  _ made _ him weak. And… he’s still suffering because of it. All of this, if I had just  _ talked _ to him instead of…” he paused,  “Sometimes I get carried away and I hurt the people I care about.” He finished with a long sigh.

Tyrande’s eyes were wide. She didn’t think he would share much of anything with her, despite the pact between the night elves and the humans, she had known the human king for years and he’d never opened up this much to her and neither had she. She had never talked about her, Malfurion and Shandris. How the young elf was like a daughter to her, despite never having children, never thinking she could. She was a leader, and much to her dismay she would never truly have time for motherhood. But Shandris was a close enough fit, and she cared deeply for the woman. 

“That is… troubling to hear… how much he has suffered from a young age, considering human children. He must still be so traumatized,” she finished sadly. Varian nodded and swiped a hand across his mouth, tugging at his cheek. She could tell that he was restless. He seemed to be in a state of shock, lingering between spectating and living. It had been weeks since he’d arrived at the constructed Lion’s Landing, and still no word. He was tired but restless and worried, sick with anxiety for his son. She gave him a concerned look and leaned forward on her elbows and peered up at him. “I will let my scouts know that Anduin must be retrieved, it will take no time at all,” She smiled, placing her hand over his as it shook from its tense position on the table. He nodded and gave her a half-smile, forced and uncomfortable. He probably didn’t really  _ want _ to tell his revelation. He probably didn’t want to tell anyone, really. She wouldn’t blame him.  _ Some sort of obligation, because I asked _ . She sighed and stood. 

“Get rest tonight, King Wrynn. The Alliance needs a healthy king, and it is what your son would want.” Tyrande bowed her head again and left the office, leaving Varian to his misery.

* * *

“The chefs here are amazing…” Anduin laughed as he set his chopsticks down, folding his arms over the yellow cotton shirt he was given. Nadaya laughed and nodded, placing her own down on the china. 

“Sika has always made the best dumplings,” she smiled, standing from the table as one of the handmaids took care of their dishes. They thanked the woman and left the dining hall, various Pandaren waving goodbye to Nadaya. 

“So, Chi-Ji told you to become a monk, hm?”

“He just told me to study under the monks  _ here _ , not become one. At least…” he fumbled, “I don’t  _ think _ so?” He glanced back at her. She was holding back mirth by the slight tremble of her shoulders. “Hey! I didn’t understand much of what he said, okay? There was a lot of… rhyming. He called me a cleric! I haven’t been called that since I last talked with Rohan.” Nadaya raised a furry brow, her whiskers twitching.

“Who is Rohan?” Anduin blushed, laughing awkwardly.

“Sorry, sorry! Rohan is a priest. He was the man who taught me to accept the Light and follow the path that I  _ truly _ wanted to follow. I will never forget him…” 

“He sounded like a kind soul.” Nadaya chuckled as they entered another hall, bustling with Pandaren. Friendly up and down, genuine smiles and not very well hidden shocked stares. Was he the first human they saw? It was a little shameful of him to stand there, ragged and barefoot in their sacred halls.  _ I hope I’m not leaving dirty footprints or anything _ , he worried anxiously. As a diplomat, image was seventy-five percent,  _ minimum _ , of the demographic in representing a cause  _ and _ a faction. He was making an impression alright, but he had no idea if it was a good one. 

“In your studies, you will be training under a well-loved monk. He is an expert Windwalker, and his name is Alanhang. He is also my little brother, so be wary. He’s a scamp.”

“Are you bad-mouthing me, sister?” A new, deeply accented voice came into play as the Pandaren in question walked out of a hall adjacent to theirs. He had spotted dark brown fur and a particular curved sharp spot of dark brown fur around his right eye. He looked to be an interesting character, and Anduin was intrigued. Pandaren fashion was so… curious? It wasn’t bad! He found it quite pleasing and eye-catching. So many colors!

“He is very bad at speaking common, but he is still learning. Bear with it, for now. This is Anduin and he is now your newest student. Good luck!” She squeezed his good shoulder and he felt the healing mists flow through him. Shuddering, Anduin turned to greet his teacher. The panda was taller than him by a head and a half. He was abnormally taller than most of the Pandaren in the monastery.  _ Fascinating… _ Anduin, catching himself as he stared, bowed his head as he cradled his arm to prevent it from jolting too suddenly. 

“Ah, hello, teacher?” 

“Yes, of course. Come, walk with me.” Anduin hurried to trot alongside him. “You are young, but not naive. I can sense these things within you. Carrying great wisdom despite age- it’s a very handy thing you can have,” he chuckled, “But you do not yet know the strife of our people and the lengths we have come to save ourselves. And it starts,” he pushed open a door as they stopped in front of it, revealing a clear training ground with fighters, meditating monks, and groups of Pandaren walking the temple grounds. Various bouts of naturalistic elements were overgrown. Over the boulders grew curved, rickety trees that burst forth with cherry leaves. Vines crawled down lampposts as bugs drew in and out of the light. He felt a mist part over the grey paths that guided them through the valley. He was in awe at how beautiful it was. In the distance he could see shallow ponds filled with cranes in multiple places, shaded by large trees, a healthy sepia color coating their thick bark. He could hear non-stop noise, but couldn’t help but let the peace fall over him like a blanket. 

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Alanhang asked, slapping him on the shoulder. Anduin yelped loudly and cringed away from the touch, the Pandaren became concerned and pulled away, leaning over to check and see if he was alright. “I’m sorry- were you injured?” Anduin heaved in a breath as Alanhang pushed them off to the side to avoid any of the students walking past. Anduin hunched in on himself and hissed through his tightly grit teeth. With a sudden resurgence of the Light, he pushed the flow through to his shoulder with a soft glow. It felt nice to have the comforting warmth in his core again.  _ I missed you _ , he sighed softly as the pain faded, his hand enveloped in a faint glow. Alanhang’s paws were still clamped gently around his biceps, still a little bent and staring at him and waiting for a response. He removed his hand from his shoulder and smiled bitterly.

“I got shot,” he informed with a half-smile. “Sorry if I didn’t say much before… I mean we just started talking but… well… Nevermind.” He shrugged. Alanhang had a sort of sad look on his face. 

“I suppose I should have noticed. You are still a little tense, of course. Your aura is not as bright as opposed to what it feels to be. And you are carrying your arm anyways! Ah, I am a fool. I have studied body language for years! And yet,” he chuckled, patting his other shoulder instead. Anduin winced a bit but smiled anyway. Alanhang, he was a very jolly Pandaren. It was nice to have such friendly people around. Everyone he knew was always so grim or unhappy. And there wasn’t much he could  _ do _ to make them happy, with his father possibly confining him to the keep for the rest of his days when he reunited with him after his exploration was through.  _ I don’t know when that will be, though. It’s already been almost two months… This is getting crazy. _

“I am deeply sorry, my friend. I hope I did not injure you further. Now, on with our lesson. We learn from Chi-Ji and his greatest lessons to inquire further about the journey of what it means to hope. To hope is to bring your innermost desires to the forefront, to help and to accomplish. When one feels hope, it means they have come from a state of desperation. Of misery. But when one feels this emotion, something will always rise within you to be greater than what you  _ hoped _ to be.” He chuckled, “It is Chi-Ji’s motto,” he smiled. “Our own great emperor who has now passed, Emperor Shaohao, once found hope when our great Southern Celestial simply flew over him. It was as if he was washed agaze with the clearest water he’d ever soaked in. It had opened his eyes in this terrible time of depression he faced, that he realized he could make the wrongs right again.” They stopped in front of one of the shallow ponds, filled with a variety of cranes. “Sit,” Alanhang spoke softly as he plopped down himself, feet crossed onto his calves as he pinched his fingers and closed his eyes, his snout to the sky. Anduin crossed his legs and cradled his arm, looking over at him for the rest of the lesson.

“The key to understanding is meditation, and if one was to find any salvation, the clearest mind shall take you there. But do not fret if anxiousness comes to you. It will always serve as a warning. Do not let it overwhelm you, for it will cloud your mind and keep you unfocused and panicked.” Anduin took in a deep breath as Alanhang did, hearing the soft ripples and splashes of the water, the quiet chirps of the cranes preening and feeding. The gentle murmur of the wind and the hushed voices of Pandaren in the background as they studied. 

“If Chi-Ji is the embodiment of hope, then how does he protect his people if he is pacified by his beliefs?” 

“Chi-Ji does not let his beliefs overpower his rationality. Protecting those he has vowed to keep safe will never be forgotten. He will never forget why he fights. And in turn,  _ we _ remember why we fight. For family. For friends. Even for those you don’t know.” Anduin couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. “What?” Alanhang asked, nudging him with his elbow. Anduin giggled, covering his mouth.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry, it’s just. That was… it was just so nice to hear. I’ve always heard ‘fight for yourself’ and never ‘fight for someone else’. It’s just really good to hear, that it’s actually common to teach that. It’s just not common to hear it back home. It’s always just… for the Alliance… and- and there’s nothing wrong with fighting for everyone’s safety, but sometimes it isn’t just enough for that, you know?” 

“Yes, of course! With your, what, Alliance? In armies, it is hard to hope when you and your brothers and sisters have lost hope, but then what do they begin to fight for? Each other! I have witnessed enough battles to notice how armies will change and fluctuate with the wind as if they reached a climax and were heading into a collision course, but the end result would be to rise victorious. It is wonderful to think about how belief can change how you fight, no?” Anduin grinned, nodding.

“Exactly!” He sighed, feeling lighter than he had in a long, long time. “I’ve always tried to explain to my father that he’s always had something to fight for. To realize that he has people to come home to. Sometimes…” his eyes drew downcast, the sky grew dark as a cloud passed over the sun. “Sometimes I wonder if he just.. Won’t come home someday,” he spread his hands out and clenched them, fists shaking slightly. “I don’t like to think about it,”

“Your father is a soldier?” Anduin froze, sitting up straighter. 

“He… is um,” he paused. Should he be truthful? Why would his father being a king bother anyone? Well… they might treat him different. They might try to bring him home. “Yes, a soldier. Of a sort,” he sighed through his nose. 

“He must be very important if you were to just show up here suddenly. Nadaya said late last night that a human boy was found in fine yet ripped clothes. Is he some sort of general?” 

“Ah, yes.” He answered awkwardly, hating how transparent he sounded. “I’ve been shipwrecked here for a while… and he’s worried sick but… I can’t go back. Not yet,” 

“Because of your mission,” Alanhang finished with a small smile. 

“I just want to learn, that’s all. My father… he isn’t controlling, I wouldn’t say that. He’s just… overprotective of me, I guess. It’s not like I don’t appreciate it! It’s just… I want to expand and explore… I want to learn and he encourages that but it’s just. Hard.” He pursed his lips and slumped. 

“Why do you try to justify him so much?”

“Huh?” Anduin looked up, confused. 

“Why are you trying to convince me that he isn’t what someone would assume he is?”

“Because…” Anduin started, crossing his arms tight. “Because he’s a good man. And a lot of people don’t think he is, and they’re wrong! He’s just… he’s been through a lot and I know that other people know that… it just won’t change their mind because he’s…  _ well _ , aggressive.”

“Do you care so much about what they think of your father, or what they think your father does to  _ you _ ?” 

“He does  _ nothing _ to me!” Anduin countered, suddenly angry. It’s always been that way. Various parents or adults or even the  _ nobles _ will approach him and ask if he’s okay as if he’s an incompetent five-year-old! He can handle himself, and… His father doesn’t hurt him on purpose! It’s just… It’s just an accident! When Onyxia split their personalities it became like a switch between his gladiatorial side and his kingly side. It was just hard to tell when which would come out, sometimes. But he was well versed enough to know how to calm Lo’gosh down. It took a bit of coaxing and pleading, but it worked rather well and Anduin was proud to have found  _ some _ medium between the two. 

“I did not say I thought so. I merely asked if you feared for your own father’s reputation rather than yours. Being a soldier’s son, it must be difficult to live up to such expectations if your father is well known to be aggressive, yes?” Alanhang soothed, smoothing it over with a more accurately-worded question rather than something so blunt as to send the boy into outrage and rant about something he’s no doubt defended before. 

“I- yes. It is. He did not like the idea of me being, well,  _ this _ , at first. But he’s coming to terms with it and I cannot ask for any more than what he can offer. He used to think that I was soft, weak. But he knows I am not, now. And that is more precious to me than he can fathom.”

“It sounds as if you care very much what your father thinks. You must love him a great deal.” He prodded, leaning his chin on his fist.

“I guess I do… at first, I thought very hard before I told him. But after, and his angry response… I wondered if I should have even followed through. Things fell out between us after that but I think we’ve come very far. My father is the most important person in my life. He’s… he’s the only family I have left.” His words felt hollow and dull, but he wasn’t wrong. He didn’t want to evoke pity, but it usually sounded like he did, didn’t it?

Alanhang smiled and looked back toward the pond, snout high to the sky as he breathed. He heard Anduin unfold from his curled position. “Varian Wrynn must be a lucky man, then.” He heard a stunned silence and a huffed breath. Looking back over, Alanhang felt fulfilled. The boy's brows upturned as his eyes grew wet, a sad, sweet smile graced his face. 

“He is, isn't he?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK YOU GUYS!! UGH IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO FINISH THIS CHAPTEr; just shows how easy it is to fall out of a story, right??? IM SO HAPPY MY LAPTOP IS WORKING AGAIN!! I MISSED YOUAhsaskfsjafgaksjdn  
> ANYWAYS wow what a tearjerker right guys??? I feel like my writing style has changed a little... and DONT WORRY, I'm still gonna work out Paying Prices but I think I might get a headstart and maybe start posting it sometime this winter or late fall? IM NOT SURE SO STAY UPDATED!!  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter and YAY IM BACK ;D


	8. Despair Strikes Forth from the Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussing history was always Anduin's favorite subject, but what if more came into play?

Anduin hummed softly in the early morning air. It had been nearly a week since he’d joined the students under Chi-Ji, and his training was moving along steadily. He grimaced and readjusted his feet across his knees. The position was uncomfortable, to say the least, but Alanhang made him get used to it by forcing him to meditate every morning. He felt the wind breeze by him gently, and the soft sound of chimes in the distance hanging from the temple doors. He still got quite lost trying to navigate the place, but it felt almost like home. Like the Exodar or Ironforge did. They felt safe. 

He floated gently off the ground, sighing as he let the warmth wash over him. It was kind of cloudy, but the sun poked in every now and again. It let his cold body become filled with Light, as well as the mists that poked at him like an inaccessible itch. 

Anduin was overjoyed at the connection that re-established itself within his core. He hadn’t felt the motherly touch of the Light in weeks, and he couldn’t help but smile as he summoned a ball in his hands. It was small but bright and gurgling like boiling water, the voice echoed and pitched like the chimes as he closed his eyes and tuned everything else out. Velen’s words spoke from the back of his head.  _ To let the Light flow you is to drinking water. It is natural, and it is needed to stay hydrated. Your faith will replenish within your heart, and you will feel true happiness. _

Understanding from O’ros’ perspective or even Velen’s those words seemed natural and comforting to any with divine faith. But to another human or even a troll, it sounded mad, bordering cultish. It always would to someone who wasn’t involved in the Light. It was natural, and it was comforting. The Light would always act as a second skin for him, it would always have its own special place in his heart.  _ I just wish Father would see it that way… _ His thoughtless meditation was interrupted by these thoughts. He remembered in Darnassus when his father so desperately tried to make Anduin stay he stated that the Light was just a tool. To a certain degree, he was right. But it wasn’t as if he had no connection to the Light. It wasn’t as if he could just  _ use _ it and then think nothing more.

It was a constant relationship, and it had to be monitored and respected. While communication wasn’t.. Exactly…  _ physical _ , as one would put it, to remind yourself of a constant faith that you have yourself and your connection to the Light as a guide. Anduin sighed as the ball dissipated. His own relationship with the Light was strong and steady. But there were some moments when it would disappear without a trace. It left him empty and alone, and Anduin wished to ask Velen, but he feared that it was something wrong with  _ him _  and that it would be ridiculous to ask. He didn’t know if it was normal. He was too afraid to ask. Anduin shook his head and sat up straighter, breathing in and out as his focus went back to his own floating state. So quiet and still he could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the slight tickles of fine silk cloth on his skin. 

His wounds were coming along, the gunshot wound nearly healed but still  _ so _ sore. The scrapes and bruises he received were near gone, especially the fracture in his ribs where he’d landed waist-first into a tree. He wasn’t so malnourished but still underneath wiry, Sika was absolutely an amazing cook and she told Anduin stories of old chefs that created dishes seemingly out of nowhere. It was nice to feel the wonder. 

He hadn’t heard stories quite like it in a very long while. Once upon a time, Bolvar would tell him stories of the great heroes of Azeroth such as Anduin Lothar- the man he was named after and his father’s past guardian, and Uther the Lightbringer. He was only twelve years old when Uther was sadly murdered by his own student, Arthas. He remembered his father told him that Arthas visited him and his mother just after Anduin’s birth. 

Anduin remembered grasping his finger in his own small hands, which was probably much larger than his own arm at the time- it was strange to think that this man was once considered and officially branded his godfather due to his father and Arthas’ good friendship, but no longer in their minds nor on paper since his corruption. It was a distant memory, but one he cherished to remember since he was so young. He felt curious, realizing he could remember something so early on in his life. What else could he remember? He’d tried so hard to picture his mother with his own real eyes, but all he had for an example were paintings or old, faded photos. It wasn’t the same as looking at a real person. He snuck those photos, of course. His father stored everything that was his mother’s away so he wouldn’t be reminded of it. Everything but her locket, which he gifted to Anduin on Remembrance Day. The day he almost lost him. 

His fingers trembled at the thought. His hands, slick with his father’s blood as he so desperately tried to heal him. His rumbly voice which was supposed to sound  _ comforting _ sounded hoarse and pained as he told him to run, to get somewhere safe. Anduin didn’t think there was any limit when it came to his love for family, especially his father. It was probably naive to say he would do anything for him, but… he would, within reason. 

“Hello, my student,” Alanhang’s voice broke his thoughts as he sat on the ground beside his floating protege. “Your Light gives you some tricks, hmm?” Anduin laughed and lowered himself to the ground. 

“Apologies, Master. It’s more of a habit than anything,” 

“No need to apologize, you did nothing wrong. In fact, it looks way better than just sitting on the ground. Very classy!” He joked as he took a swig from the gourd on his belt. “Who is your teacher?”

“Ah.. he is a Draenei, and he’s very well-known and respected. He’s a prophet, and his name is Velen. His people have suffered much to get here where it’s, well,  _ relatively _ safe. But it’s not like Argus… He’s  _ very _ old, but I’m really not sure if Draenei are immortal or if they live for tens of thousands of years normally… I haven’t asked.” He laughed, scratching the back of his head. 

“I have only seen a few. They are  _ very _ tall! There was one I saw in the market at Halfhill, and he was  _ very _ menacing. I don’t think he meant it, though. He was a very nice man.” 

“I bet,” He smirked, not really knowing what to say next. A thought came to his mind, and he looked up at the sun revealing itself through the clouds. “Master?” he thought back to a passing comment in the dining hall earlier.

“Yes?”

“What are the Mogu?” Alanhang’s face became grim, and Anduin immediately regretted asking. He swallowed nervously and looked away. 

“If I shall explain, I will start from the very beginning,” he smiled wistfully, “The Mogu are titan-forged creatures dating back to the ordering of our very planet. They were created to dig rivers and the waterways of the lands we walk upon. There was nothing else they were intended for, but then, Highkeeper Ra- the titan watcher and guardian of southern Azeroth, Pandaria, bestowed the blessing of life upon the Mogu. The artifact he used could channel raging storms that could break the deepest chasms of the world, but the Mogu were instead given purpose again,” he paused, taking another sip. 

“Were they not grateful?”

“They were angered that they were used as the old god’s servants, and fought back against their tyranny. But the old gods cursed them with flesh, mortality. They were terrified of their initial downfall, but pressed on in their empire nonetheless and served loyally under the silent Ra-Den. But before this, they created a sacred valley in our continent while shaping the mountains. The Vale of Eternal Blossoms. The very Vale that you are in search for.” Anduin perked up and cocked his head, turning to face his master in interest.

“We know very little of it since there is still silenced Mogu clans within the Valley and the Celestials have closed the gates eternally. We have not been inside in decades,” He leaned over the small marble parapet that separated the ground and the water and plucked a lotus flower from the pond. “They say that the Golden Lotus’ grows within the heart of the valley, but ever so often you will find it in the Valley of the Four Winds, and even here in the wilds. It is known to have various healing properties and is called a  _ miracle _ plant, out of all things! I personally think it makes a great soup.” He patted his stomach filled with brew and Anduin laughed. 

“So, if the Mogu were eventually defeated, what happened between now and then?” He turned to sit in front of Alanhang, fully interested in a history lesson. Alanhang had a bitter yet genuine smirk on his face, and he cradled a piece of wheat softly between his canines. 

“During the age of Hundred Kings, the Mogu discovered necromancy. And one great warlord, Lei Shen, wished to awaken the old gods. He took his legion and stormed the heart of the Thundering Mountain, coming back out and proclaiming himself the Thunder King while wielding the powerful lightning of Ra-Den. The Mogu found pride in their new leader and flocked to his banner, Lei Shen proclaiming that the Mogu were the strongest and that they would overpower the weak as their old masters did to them. He made his slaves build the Serpent’s Spine, the walls that shield the Valley of Eternal Blossoms from us, the gates that the Celestials refuse to open,” Anduin nodded, and Alanhang appreciated the interest. He had not seen such a youthful face intrigued by their history in a long, long time. 

“Twelve thousand years ago today was the Pandaren Revolution when we rose up during the Dynasty of Lao-Fe due to Emperor Tsao’s mistake on giving us more freedoms than many Mogu would have liked. Lao-Fe was brutal and strict with the slaves, but due to Tsao’s carefree rule, we were able to overcome the Mogu and create a prosperous kingdom that has lasted us thousands of years. We celebrate our freedom and how thankful we are to not be locked under the chains of the titan-forged any longer. But the Zandalari trolls only a thousand years later would launch a full-on attack on Pandaria with their Mogu allies, pillaging and destroying everything in their wake in a desperate attempt to reclaim what was lost. But they were driven out of our home for good, and have not returned since. But the Mogu, however, have started trickling into our home once again. Nothing too large-scale. But it is suspicious, no?” 

“Wow…” he leaned back, astonished. “That is… incredible! Not the slavery- I mean! Just… how they were able to overcome their prison so quickly… It’s.. inspirational.” He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. 

“I am glad you think so. Our history has been tainted with war and violence for so long that us Pandaren seek only to live in peace and harmony. Our people may have the occasional spat, but it is usually small and solved easily. I have not seen a grudge like the two families in Dawn's Blossom last so long, though.” He chuckled, “Old families are hard and shaped like the mountains they walk upon. I suppose I cannot give an opinion.” Anduin nodded, completely interested in his Master’s words. Alanhang was impressed. So the boy liked to learn, hm?

“So…” he started, “If the Mogu were so against their masters, why did Lei Shen want to bring them back?” 

“Perhaps, in his own mind, he thought that with his legion he could even imprison the gods as if they were mortal races. I personally think that he would not have succeeded, but who knows? He stole the power of a thousand storms! We do not know what he could accomplish if he were alive today. I do not tend to think about it much, but it is fairly interesting.” 

“I’ve never gone into so much research about the old gods and corrupters until recently, but they seem to be nice to learn about… Especially Ner’zhul…” Anduin thought back again to Arthas, his mind twining with his earliest memory, straight golden hair and a happy smile as he cooed down at an infant. 

“Why don’t you tell me what you know?” 

“I’ve read a lot about the Void lords… the ones that were trying to corrupt Azeroth. I know that they had an empire named the Black Empire and that they wanted to infect Azeroth’s Titan Soul because if they did then they could create an entire universe of Void. Which… honestly sounds terrible. The Void feels absolutely disgusting and… I don’t know how Shadow Priests handle it…” He shook his head, “Before actual mortal races really developed on Azeroth the old gods were the ones ruling it in primordial times. They were imprisoned underneath Azeroth’s crust eventually, but even now they can influence what happens out here. That’s what happened to Neltharion... Or, Deathwing. He went mad in Deepholm, tortured by the Twilight Cultists, and tried to destroy the world under the influence of the gods.”

“We have been hidden by the mists for so long, we have had no knowledge of the outside exploits of our world. Frankly, it is foolish, we could have been demolished from these old gods and not even know it was happening!” Alanhang huffed, spitting the wheat out of his mouth. He noticed the slightly haunted look on Anduin’s face and pushed his snout forward. “Why do you think the Void is disgusting if others have conquered it?”

“Those who have ‘conquered’ the Void have gone mad! They.. they follow something that can twist their thoughts, that can make them hurt other people! Strangers, family, friends, anyone! It is foolish to relinquish control in the fight for power! There’s always another way.” 

“I can agree with you on that, but haven’t there been sane individuals who have conquered the Void?” 

“I… yes. There has… I just..” 

“What if someone you truly cared about became a master of the Void?” 

“I don’t know if I could trust them the same again..” He squinted and pursed his lips, folding his arms. “I wouldn’t love them any less, but I just don’t know if I could trust them.”

“Isn’t love and trust one in the same?” Anduin went silent, pondering the two. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. Alanhang chuckled at the childish behavior. “If you love someone but don’t trust them, is it love?”

“No…” 

“If you trust someone but don’t love them… I think that is just a partnership rather than a familial relationship, or even romantic.” Anduin sighed. 

“If my Master Velen turned to the Void, completely sane and in control of himself… I don’t know what I would do. He wouldn’t feel right. He would feel… dangerous…”

“So you do not like the Void?”

“That makes me a hypocrite, I guess.” He unfolded his legs and pulled them to his chest. Alanhang tilted his head. “I’ve used shadow spells before… not with pride... But. I have, willingly. So I shouldn’t be saying anything.” He buried his nose into his knees. 

“Sometimes we find passion and conviction at an impasse because no one can cross the line when they must.” 

A sudden explosion rocked the ground, and Anduin found himself bumped forward as Alanhang was knocked onto his back. An ear-splitting scream shattered the frail stone carvings along the walls with the force of a hurricane, causing panic to arise within the Pandaren around them. Anduin stumbled to his feet as he attempted to stay upright, but the rocking in the ground felt like a terrible earthquake. He was thrown to the ground again, his cheek split on a sharp rock as he took a mouthful of dirt. Anduin winced and rubbed his face, praying for the shaking to stop as the land around them became fractured and molded into a dangerous valley of stalagmites and upturned statues. 

Slowly the shaking stopped, and Anduin saw a crowd of Pandaren fleeing the pagoda temple, screams of fear and shrieks of pain coming from inside. Anduin was on his feet instantaneously, running toward the entrance in a desperate attempt to help those trapped inside. He heard Alanhang shout for him to stop and wait, but people could die! He couldn’t just  _ wait _ -

Anduin crashed to a halt as he felt a sick, heavy sense of dread and despair fill him until he became nauseous. The deeper he slugged into the temple, the worse he felt. He stumbled drunk on a haze of billowing misery into the foyer where he found at least a dozen Pandaren huddling together, some crying, some despondent. With a heavy heart, he pushed the door open further and caught himself on a pillar, coughing as if he was inhaling smoke. 

“Anduin!” A pained shout called to him, causing the prince to whip around at Nadaya’s familiar voice. He careened forward and fell to his knees in front of her, the injured woman grasping at his shoulders. “Why are you here? Why did you-” she coughed, turning away as black filth came from her lungs to spit onto the floor, “You were outside!” 

“What happened?” He rasped, curling toward her as another wave of pain wracked over him, causing him to hack up the same black phlegm and shudder. 

“Chi-Ji, a Sha demon erupted from his sanctuary! We have… we…” her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she abruptly fell to the side. Anduin crawled forward, shaking her shoulder. Pain coursed through his veins, burning, searing him from the inside. He grit his teeth and inhaled, wheezing through agonizing breaths. He collapsed over her motionless body, mind going blank from pain as it forced itself to sleep in the embrace of despair.

* * *

Rahai grunted as he pushed through thickets of large palm-leaves, his hammer tight in his fist as his hooves stomped over thorns and pocketed roots. He let an annoyed huff leave his snout as he sniffed the sudden stench of death. It wasn’t alarming, he’d been following the trail of Sha energy for a while under the orders of his Chieftain, Dezco. The Sunwalker was no stranger to this land, his late wife holding visions of a Vale so pure and full of life it could heal all with any ailment. So they set out on an expedition and found this land. Full of Mantids and Yaungol, weird aggressive kodo looking creatures and other hostiles. 

He came out to a clear spot in the valley and walked out to the cobblestone path, flicking a tick off of his ear. He heard the explosion from afar, and it only took him an hour to travel toward the sound. Now that he was there, the situation didn’t look as tame as he’d hoped. 

Black rings of intense Sha energy hovered above the temple, infected roots crawling down the once beautiful grass from inside the pagoda. Rahai grimaced, disappointed. He wished he could have seen the monastery in its glory. He started forward, ready to storm in and rescue the rest of the Pandaren trapped inside. From the looks of things, the other inhabitants of the monastery seemed to be too afraid to enter the temple. The paladin rolled his shoulders and sighed. He enveloped himself in Light and prepared to enter the temple as he calmly approached the crowd of Pandaren. 

From the middle of the crowd, he could see two obvious Draenei attempting to calm them as they too apparently readied themselves to enter the facility. He approached the steps, and his heavy hoofsteps seemed to alert the majority of the crowd. He nodded to the two Draenei and increased his shield rate to the other two, one of them readying a fireball in their fist and the other resting his sword on his shoulder. 

“The Light will disperse any of the effects of the Sha. I have developed a technique to keep them out of my head,” he hummed at the two in broken common, both nodding tersely. Perhaps they didn’t speak the language. Or perhaps they weren’t comfortable. Rahai adjusted the hammer in his grasp as he prowled the monastery for the Sha, finding none of the little minions and only the pained Pandaren. Some were rendered unconscious, but with a little boost of the Light, they were up again in no time. 

They entered the foyer of the monastery and found a mass of students and monks, writhing in agony or unresponsive. The Sha’s energy of despair brought about much pain and suffering to those it was inflicted upon. Rahai frowned. It was dire, and these people would perish if they didn’t leave soon. 

They rounded up who they could awaken, having them carry their unconscious comrades outside where it was relatively safer. Before the whole room was empty, he found the warrior Draenei cradling a human boy while the mage tended to a mistweaver, the woman rubbing her head. 

The human seemed to be familiar with the two Draenei, and let the warrior pick him up as he was too weak to carry himself on his own two feet. He has never seen such a weak human. So pale and thin. The woman seemed to be genuinely worried about him, though she needed help standing as well. They were unable to wake the boy up. Rahai reinforced the Light shield around them all as they escorted the two out into the temple grounds, the land misshapen and bent wrongly as the Sha infection spread further. 

“There he is, the foolish child!” A big, tall Pandaren man came out and embraced the woman, two looked alike, they must have been siblings. Rahai tilted his head as the Draenei put the boy on the ground and cast a golden spell over his head, leaving the rune of the Draenei over as the woman knelt down and begin to heal him. 

“He was already injured before. The Sha truly is unforgiving… my muscles still hurt,” she chuckled, obviously shaken. 

“You are brave to continue after such trauma,” the warrior looked at her as his spell grew stronger. “He will wake soon.” The four turned to the Tauren and thanked him silently. Rahai nodded in return. To make this report to Dezco would be… interesting. Learning that Alliance activity was well and strong in the wilds would bring new missions to work around them. Rahai sighed. It was getting tiring. 

“I must take my leave. Be safe, monk.” He dipped his head to them and stomped off back the way he came, formulating his report in his head.

* * *

Khantis rolled his eyes as the paladin departed. The majority of the mission was in silence, and it was a strange coincidence that he just happened to  _ show _ up in time when the monks were in need of those to help. Of course, he would thank the man for helping, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious. He was more worried about the monks, though. And what lied dormant inside the temple to create such destruction. 

He shifted the young prince in his arms as he writhed, slowly waking up from his pain-induced coma. They had been a few hours too late, the Pandaren suffering under the torture of the Sha explosion. Luckily within those few hours, they were able to set up a refugee camp nearby where he could take the prince to safety. 

“Do you believe that the demon is still inside?” 

“Yes. Where else would it go?” Alanhang planted his fists on his belt, raising an eyebrow. 

“It came from Chi-Ji’s sanctuary on the bottom floor of the basement. It is too dangerous to go down there!” Khantis’ mouth set into a firm, hard line. He shifted Anduin just as he opened his eyes, misty and glazed over in pain. He fought to sit up on his aching arms, Khantis setting him down on the ground, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Anduin scoot up a little as he shook his head, groaning.

“What… where?” He closed his eyes in the sudden light. “Where am I? What happened?” 

“You tried to go in there and help, but… clearly…” Alanhang scolded, crouching down beside him. Anduin shrunk. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quickly, curling closer to the Draenei. Khantis raised a hairless eyebrow and sighed, peering up at his brother. The boy was clearly ashamed of his actions, he’d always been selfishly altruistic. Which.. in itself was an oxymoron. He rubbed the prince’s shoulder and reached over, plucking his sword from beside him. He turned to the two Pandaren, a stern look crossing his face. 

“Get the boy to safety, we will handle your demon.” The woman seemed shocked but nodded, her brother was unfazed. He pushed Anduin gently toward the woman, the boy still waking up and in shock. 

“Wait!” Anduin called, standing up so quick he nearly fainted with how fast his blood rushed down, barreling into the brothers. Khantis turned and held him up as the boy cast a mana-draining spell over them, a thick shield enveloping their bodies. “This’ll last you a while, okay? Just be careful… please?” Khantis chuckled and patted his head, Verild pinching the nape of his neck and pushing him away. 

“We will be fine, little brother. Now go, we will be back soon.” 

-

Anduin watched them walk into the temple anxiously, fiddling with his fingers. The horrible after-effects of the.. what.. Sha? What was the  _ Sha _ ? He turned to his friends and padded up to them as they pointed up the valley, quietly talking. 

“I’m sorry,” He said again, bowing his head in shame, “I was foolish, and I didn’t think-” 

“Quiet, boy, there is no need. While I understand your actions and still do not condone them, you were only trying to help.” Alanhang put a paw up to silence him, grasping his arm and pulling him forward. Anduin frowned and kept his mouth shut, not knowing what to say. 

Up the valley, there was a refuge, and it was a long walk away. He kept busy by examining the wildflowers and the Sha-touched nature, wilted and dead. He shivered and folded his arms. It felt terrible, under the influence of such…  _ misery _ . He hadn’t felt that terrible since… her… Anduin narrowed his eyes and kept them to the ground. His feet ached as much as the rest of his body, but he willed himself to ignore it and focus on regaining his mana. There was no doubt many of the refugees that needed healing, and he would give it to them as repentance for failing them when he foolishly barged into the temple on an act of ‘heroism’. He wasn’t like Khantis or Verild. He couldn’t just  _ do _ that, he wasn’t strong enough. 

Sure enough, they arrived at the camp and just like Anduin expected, many were in need of healing. Most of the mistweavers were out of commission or absolutely exhausted. Brows furrowed, Anduin pushed past Nadaya and Alanhang, kneeling down next to the nearest patient and rolling up his sleeves, ready to work. 

The vast majority of the injured consisted of internal damage rather than external, which the Light was an expert in fixing. While Anduin didn’t exactly know what was truly wrong with them, the positive outcome of his healing seemed to make them feel much better than they did, like a heavy weight was lifted from their backs. Those with physical damage were most likely from the initial aftershock of the explosion. An old handmaid’s back had been broken from a statue falling on her, and while Anduin did what he could, she passed away almost immediately after the healing session. He felt devastated as he felt her soul rise to the great beyond, and wished he could have saved her and made her stronger so she wouldn’t suffer the pain. She went peacefully anyways… but it still felt wrong. 

There were very few deaths, most Anduin could not prevent. He was getting exhausted and the constant drain of mana wasn’t helping his case. Anduin grit his teeth as he felt misery wash over him again.  _ Go away. Go away!  _ He grunted and bowed his head, the Light cut off from his current patient, a mistweaver he was acquainted with. The Pandaren reached up and pressed a finger to his temple, washing away the pain. He smiled and thanked him, grasping his hand tenderly before finishing off his wounds and moving on to the next one. 

An hour passed with no sign of Khantis or Verild, and Anduin was starting to get worried. Had the two been gravely injured? Had they been infected with this Sha energy? He stood by the entrance of the camp, hands shaking as he paced. Glancing out toward the far-away temple again he sighed and threw his head back to the sky, the sun nearly set. He rubbed his face as a lump came to his throat. 

“The purple one called you ‘little brother’, are they family?” Nadaya asked, grabbing his wrist and preventing him from pacing any longer. Anduin smiled and leaned back against a wooden post. 

“Of a sort.” He looked out down the path and still found nothing but the darkening shade of the wilds. 

“You worry greatly for them. I am sure they are okay, but a demon is not easy to defeat. And Chi-Ji has not arrived yet.” She sighed and folded her arms, also staring out toward the valley. “Wait…” She peered over, squinting to make the image see was seeing clear. “Is that him?” Anduin looked at the flying shadow, a hint of red adorning the feathers. He nodded, pointing over. 

“See the red? It’s him. He’s bigger than a normal crane so that gives it away, too.” They turned as he landed in the middle of the camp, many of the order surrounding him and asking if was okay, injured, anything? Chi-Ji chuckled softly and placated them.

“It is okay, my children, I am safe now.” He bent his beak down and bowed, perching in the middle of the camp. Anduin thought hard. He didn’t seem to be fazed or freaked out at all, merely calm and as joyous as usual. He narrowed his eyes and stroked his thumb across his lips.  _ Broken are the bodies wherein hopeless hearts reside, the blight of despair strikes forth from the inside. _ Anduin’s eyes widened.  _ He knew. He knew this was going to happen. _ But why say it to Anduin specifically? It wasn’t as if the priest knew how to counter this…  _ Sha _ . He didn’t even know what it was! 

Anduin marched forward, approaching the bird. He knelt down in front of him and placed a Light-enveloped hand on his wing, causing the Celestial to peer at him curiously. 

“There are no traces left. So how did you even know?” He wondered aloud to himself, causing the bird to chuckle. 

“You are a clever, clever child. I did not expect you to pick it up right away. But yes, this was inevitable..” He adjusted his feathers and lifted the wing, revealing a black scar staining a string of feathers. He gently brushed his fingertips idly along them and glanced at the bird, a mock of pain crossing his sharp face. “Your friends are formidable. They should be here very soon.” Anduin’s head shot up, glancing out toward the entrance of the camp once more, spotting small dark blue horns and curled purple ones. He scrambled to stand and rushed forward, barreling into the two. 

He heard the hearty laugh and felt as if he could cry. He missed them, a lot, and if he were to say he wasn’t on the verge of an anxiety attack he would be lying. He pulled back from them and observed them. They didn’t seem too hurt, but Verild had sloppy bandaging all up his arm, which worried him. He pulled the two in and they sat down by one of the many campfires, reaching to unwrap his arm. Verild chuckled and pulled it away.

“What, you think you can’t ask first?” He teased, causing his twin to snicker. Anduin raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for pain,” Verild blustered instantly and smacked him upside the head. Anduin laughed and took his arm again, pulling back the messy loose bandages and grimacing at the sight of the infected wound. He sat up straighter and shucked the rest of it off. The cut went from bicep to wrist, wrapping around from the inside to the out. Anduin hissed and gave Verild a worried look. 

“How close did you get?”

“Too close,” the mage’s lips pursed as Anduin began to work the infection of the Sha out of his blood. He drew his fingertips lightly across the wound, a bright glow illuminating their bodies. Verild grunted through the pain of the inflamed cut being prodded- even softly. 

“I know, I know, sorry,” He apologized meekly, taking his fingers off and simply hovering as the blackness of his veins subsided and the cut began to close and scar. He couldn’t quite figure out how to get rid of scars… Velen said it was very difficult. “Sorry,” he mumbled again as he placed his hand flat on his wrist to the bulk of the gash, the Draenei tensing. Once closed, the priest shuffled under his arm and hugged him. “I’m glad you two are safe.”

“And we are glad you are safe. It must have not been fun to go in there.” Khantis accepted a soup dumpling as they were handed out, picking at it with his chopsticks. One was handed to him and Verild as well, the boy giving the mentally tired Sika an apologetic smile. 

“No… I have no idea what happened... It felt awful..” He pondered for a moment, taking a bite out of the dumpling. “What is ‘ _ Sha _ ’?” He tested the word on his tongue, a foreign concept and extremely confusing. 

Khantis sighed and pinched his nose. “So far what we  _ know _ is that it’s a physical amalgamation of negative emotions. And.. it only sparked once both we and Horde arrived on these shores. They’ve been dormant until now, and they have traces of titan magic found in them according to the League.” Anduin nodded. “They’re a big problem, and has caused many issues around the continent- reported by our SI:7 agents, of course.” He added, yawning. “Actually- what did they say again?” He murmured, “Ah- yes! They’re a remnant of the old god Y'Shaarj. When that titan killed him his heart was corrupted or something and oozed the Sha essence.”

“But where is it coming from? Is that why the Vale is closed off? Did the Mogu know something that the other races didn’t?”

“Slow down, child. First, you must prove your worth to even enter the Vale, and that resides in our Northern Celestial, Xuen.” Chi-Ji’s voice interrupted his slew of questions, the bird hunkering down beside the campfire in a darkly illuminated shadow of himself. “It will take a great while to get there, but you have the strength and you have hope, so I have no doubt that you will make it.” 

“Hey- hey! We traveled a long way to find you, alright? You can’t just go off on your own again-”

“Khantis, either you’re coming with me, or you’re not.”

“Either you’re coming with  _ us _ or you’re coming  _ with. Us. _ ” Khantis argued, jabbing a finger in his direction. Anduin stood suddenly, causing the two to tense. 

“It’s  _ not _ your decision.” He finished, turning and walking away. 

“It might not be mine but it  _ is _ your father’s!” He sidestepped the campfire and marched after him. The boy had gone into a small outcropping outside the camp, Khantis thought that better. The other Pandaren didn’t have to hear him yell. He yanked the boy’s arm and turned him around, Anduin looking more like a child with every huff of breath the warrior took. “You have caused  _ nothing _ but trouble since we arrived to escort you home. Your father will have our  _ heads _ if we come back empty handed once again! Stop acting like a child! _ This isn’t some fairytale _ !” Anduin was leaned back, trying to get as far away as possible. His eyes were wide and round, breath shaky and arms tense in the warrior’s massive hands. He looked young, younger than he acted and younger than everyone thought he was. Only fourteen, Anduin had easily become one of the wisest youngsters he knew. 

Tears of shame and guilt welled in his eyes, and his face screwed up, trying to turn away and hide it in his shoulder. Khantis let go of his arms as if they’d seared his own gauntleted palms. The boy didn’t move, head hanging and shoulders shaking. He didn’t know what to say, how to fix what he said, how to word it better. Anduin’s fists clenched, trying so hard to stop crying but unable to as a flow of emotions burst through a dam of resilience. 

“You sound,” he sniffed, reaching up to furiously wipe away his shameful tears, fists rubbing against his raw cheeks. “You sound  _ just _ like him…” he sobbed, hiccuping after with a frown. 

Khantis set his jaw and held his hands out again, the boy flinching away. “Just leave me alone.” He smacked his fist away with a heavy  _ clang _ and turned away, marching to the edge of the outcropping and burying his head into his knees. 

“We leave at dawn.” 

Anduin heard heavy footsteps roam away until they became distant, and the boy stared out at the sunset with angry tears streaming down his cheeks. Khantis sounded like  _ her _ . She thought he was a mistake. A wreck. A weakling.  _ You’re not fit to lick my boots, inkling!  _ She would shriek. Anduin shook the thought from his head violently and rocked back and forth.  _ You’re just a measly orphan looking for attention in your dreamland. It would be better for you to perish so I can finally finish my work rather than pay attention to some troublesome rat. _

“I’m not weak,” he argued to no one, lip trembling as he lifted his head toward the horizon. “I’m  _ not _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I think blizz loves to ignore actual abuse within characters bc they don't give enough of a shit. I love how Anduin was advertised for the world to see as a PROTAGONIST in the BFA trailers, but so far we have just Jaina. Yeah. Just Jaina. Jaina is cool and all, but she's not the most interesting character because she did a lot of dumb shit she didn't have to do. I get Kul Tiras and opening it as a zone and making her badass because 'aaaa progressive politics' but like,, give this fucking kid his screentime because he HONESTLY deserves it. Pandaria did Anduin a disservice and I'm definitely here to rectify that.   
> Anyways, I've been thinking on how to write younger characters such as children/adolescents [which is weird bc im 15] but like, I kind of get some of my emotional child inspiration from Atreus in the God of War 4 Game. He's so raw and real and just.. UGH my baebee I love them ;=; so to write a child you kind of have to think like one? But I put in my chapter notes 'remember: he is 14 during the first half and 15 during the trial. he is still a child. write him like one. can wary between mature/immature'. So that kind of helps in writing his character? Yes, he's a diplomat and very grown up for his age around TWOTLK and CC and especially in MOP, but we never get the raw moments with him like we get with other well-developed characters like Sylvanas and Jaina. Blizzard, what the actual fuck are you doing?


	9. The Path of Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khantis regrets the way he spoke to his little brother. Baine finds concern in Garrosh's fearmongering. Anduin makes his way toward the Summit.

The afterglow of their argument wasn’t something Khantis actually wanted to  _ discuss _ like his brother did. In fact, it wasn’t even an argument. It was him yelling at a vulnerable child instead of talking to him like an  _ adult _ . It was embarrassing and it was heart-wrenching. He hadn’t seen such a face before, and it tore him to pieces. He felt terrible for the way he acted. But the road chasing Anduin down was long and tiring, and he had a right to feel frustrated. There were always two sides to a coin, and Anduin seemed resistant to any talks regarding his eventual return home. He couldn’t stay in Pandaria forever. The wilds of the land were getting more and more dangerous, the returning enemies of the Pandaren awakening and viler than they were in history. 

“You worry for his safety and so do I, but doing this will only push him further away,” Verild argued quietly as the camp settled in for the night. Anduin hadn’t returned from the outcropping yet. He could see a distinct figure, huddled and trembling in the shadows of Azeroth's moons. “We want to bring his home, not drive him into the ground.” He stated, crossing his arms as his bright pupilless eyes narrowed. 

“Yes, brother, I get it. I’ll apologize in the morning. But for now, it is time for rest.” Khantis removed his pauldrons and his belt, dropping them into a pile as he used his own arm to pillow his head-on. 

“Aren’t you afraid he’ll run away while we sleep?” Verild questions arrantly. 

“If he tries, he will be grounded from the Light for  _ years _ ,”

“Khantis!” Verild scolded, “that is too cruel. Make him train swords with you for a few months. He  _ hates _ swords.” 

“How is it cruel?” He questioned, eyes slipping shut.

“To cut a priest off from the Light is like shutting off someone’s water and refusing them any drink. It is vile and disgusting. Do you not remember that man we encountered in the catacombs of Lordaeron? He’d been there for  _ thirty _ years, rotting, driven insane by the grasp of the Void as it taunted him. It was as if they hung a carrot on a string.” Verild shuddered. 

“... Yes, I remember..” Khantis grumbled. “I wouldn’t actually  _ do that _ , you know. I’m not that horrible.” 

“Sometimes it sounds real.” Verild mumbled, turning away from him. Khantis rolled his eyes behind his lids and focused on the lull of sleep.

* * *

“How did you know who my father was? Who I was?” Anduin asked into the silence, eyes still wet and cold from the steady breeze that picked up with the cumulus clouds forming overhead. 

“I knew before you set out for our monastery that the prince of the Alliance had gone missing, and that his father was actively searching for him. Word travels fast, you know? But I did not know what you looked like. When you came to us, though, it just  _ felt _ like it.” 

“So you had a hunch?” He questioned in a deadpan tone, folding his arms tighter around his knees, shivering. Alanhang chuckled warmly and sat beside him, folding his cloak around him like a blanket. Anduin took the golden clasps and buttoned them together, fisting the cloth and tugging it completely around him. 

“I suppose I did.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, letting the whistle of the trees distract them. Anduin exhaled through his nose and turned to face his teacher. 

“I have to leave.” 

“Do you?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Anduin stressed, looking up to Alanhang desperately. “I  _ have _ to. Please.” 

“Why do you not want to return?”

“That isn’t important right now,” he stood suddenly and started back toward the camp. Alanhang scrambled up and cut him off, a face of concern blocking him from the view of his satchel in a tent. 

“Yes, it is. Why do you not want to return?” 

“No-” He attempted to bypass him, but Alanhang took him by the shoulders and planted him firmly on his feet. 

“You are allowed to confine with me, I am not your enemy here, my student.” Alanhang, for the first time in Anduin knowing him in the past two weeks, looked distressed. The boy flinched away and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I’m... I’m just…” All of this anger was overwhelming him, the red-hot fire of frustration and misery stuck deep in his heart, rising through his throat. 

“What, my boy, what is it?” Alanhang let up his gentle hold and placed it on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, tilting his head up with the other. “You will never be able to rest with so much agony resting within you.” 

“I don’t want to.. I don’t want  _ him _ to.. to hurt  _ me _ …” 

“Your father?” Anduin nodded slowly, “Why would he ever hurt you on purpose, child?” 

“He doesn’t! He would never! He’s just… complicated.” 

“Yet you defend him over and over?”

“It’s not his fault!” Anduin argued, shoving the Pandaren back and storming past him. By the edge of the camp sat his satchel, saved by Nadaya when she was attempting to escape the temple. 

“Are you saying it is your fault?” His frantic voice followed him.

“No!” 

“Then who’s is it? What  _ makes _ him hurt you without him  _ wanting _ to?” He was stopped, softer this time, with paws grasping his hands. Luckily they were being quiet, otherwise, someone in the camp would have told them to shut up ages ago. 

“He was hurt-split apart. A  _ long _ time ago. He’s never been the same. Please, just let me leave.” 

“If he was split and put back together, that means he is his own man once more!” 

“Why does this  _ matter _ so much to you?!” Alanhang grew silent, his brows furrowing as a look of anger crossed his face. 

“There is no excuse for a parent harming their child.” He growled, voice low and firm. Alanhang softened as the boy became increasingly distressed. His stormy eyes were drooping, shivering in the cold breeze. “Should you ever need a friend, you are welcome to come find me.” Alanhang reached over and plucked Anduin’s satchel from the table, stuffing a map from his pocket into it. “Travel to the Valley of the Four Winds. I cannot tell you where to go from there, but..” He tucked a stray strand of his hair behind his ear, “Be safe, my boy.” Anduin surged forward and wrapped his small arms around his waist, squeezing him tight.

“I will.” Alanhang returned the hug briefly before pulling away and shoving him toward the path. 

“Go, before the sun rises and they find you gone.” Anduin nodded and sprinted down the path, one last look thrown his way before the quick boy disappeared into the treeline. “And make sure to eat!” He called after him. 

“Foolish child.” Alanhang smiled sadly as he turned back to the dark camp, already worried. 

* * *

Anduin panted as daybreak rounded the corner, the sun peeking out from the deepest shadows of the Blue Child and the White Lady. He’d been moving at a reasonably fast pace toward the Four Winds’ and it was starting to get exhausting. And, it was also starting to rain. Anduin grumbled as a fat drop hit his nose, the excess splashing into his eyes. He squeezed them shut and rubbed at them, feeling an eyelash droop and poke him uncomfortably. He rubbed at it furiously again as the rain began to fall in tune together. Anduin heard thunder in the distance, rumbling across the rising blue sky. It would be blue no longer once the clouds settled in. His cloak would do him no favors against heavy rains, it wasn’t up to par anymore and the beating it took while on the road didn’t help its durability either. 

Anduin slowed to a walk, chest wheezing frantically, every noise felt like a firework. An explosive boom in his chest that he couldn’t believe was his heartbeat, the ringing in his numb, freezing ears as he ran against the wind. He was on high alert, adrenaline running high and heart pacing rapidly. He took a quick glance behind him and saw no one, but the town in front of him- the one he’d gone to before, Zhu’s Bastion. Up the road from the town was the Valley of the Four Winds. According to the map that Alanhang gave him, the first place he’d encounter on the path would be the Thunderfoot Fields. It had a red circle with an ‘X’ in the middle with a badly drawn angry-looking bird next to it, so it was safe to assume he wouldn’t be going that way. Poor farmers. They probably had a vulture infestation on the Fields.

He walked under a large arched gate, noticing how much lighter the place seemed than when he passed through it only three weeks ago. He stared in wonder how colorful it actually was, the sun streaming onto the polished shingles and musty buildings. He smiled, noticing how much happier the townsfolk seemed to be. He pulled up his hood, not really in the best of moods to be speaking with people. He was waved to, the Pandaren that were so dreary and dead before now lively and active. He passed through the town easily enough, it wasn’t that big- not even big enough to be even  _ considered _ a town. More like a village. His stomach rumbled and he acknowledged it idly as he walked, getting closer and closer to the signs that showed which way the road split off. 

The rain was getting harder as his feet splat against the ground even as he walked lightly on the tops of his feet. The stones were getting slick, and soon it would be hard to run or even walk on them. Anduin rolled his eyes and pushed forward as the breeze rushed past him in a violent gust, shaking the trees. The priest put up a shield against any flying twigs or rocks that came with it, the wind seeming… torrential.  He tugged his hood back up and clenched it in his fists, jogging up to the sign. He wouldn’t bring his map out in the increasing mess. It would get ruined! He intended to return it to Alanhang by the time he was finished with his quest. He peered up at the signs, water dripping down his face.  _ Halfhill, only… two and a half miles… great… _ Anduin grasped the pole of the sign and hung off of it slightly, staring out toward the intended direction. 

The land was flat and green, a great contrast to the Krasarang Wilds which was dark and swamp-like. He could see the town in the distance, and while it didn’t look very far, Anduin’s feet were telling him otherwise. The teenager sighed and smacked his forehead against the pole before pushing away and pacing a jog toward the town. Hopefully, he wouldn’t split open a toe trying to get there faster. 

_ What I wouldn’t do to have Reverence with me right now… _

* * *

Baine grimaced at the awkward hold of a charcoal carved pencil in his three fingers, trying to write his letter to Vol’jin as quickly as he could. The faster he got it sent by one of his couriers, the faster he and Vol’jin could grasp their bearings. 

The interpreted infection of Sha within the orcs was becoming concerning, and he had sent many champions and adventurers to stem the issues before it got out of hand, not before discovering that Garrosh himself had imbued the Sha upon his own kind. His brow furrowed, warm breath heaving down at the paper, causing little charcoal pieces to scatter. When he’d ordered the immediate reaction, Nazgrim had seemed a little coarse. It was before the Serpent’s Heart battle when the General had disappeared. They seemed to have been interrupted in their battle by a demon of despair, erupted from the serpent statue. Now Nazgrim was MIA, but his actions before the battle were worrying. 

Baine finished the letter and sighed, rolling it up and stamping a wax seal over it. 

“Longwalker!” He called, the courier entering the tent. 

“Yes, High Chieftain?”

“Take this letter to Vol’jin of the Darkspear, and please, with haste.” He spoke quietly in Taurahe, attempting to keep the brief meeting private even though he was surrounded by his own people.

“With honor, Chieftain.” He thumped his large fist against his chest, Baine returning the gesture, and left. He was quick with it too. The Tauren sighed and exited the tent as well, squinting in the sudden light of dawn. He stared out at the camp Dezco’s Sunwalkers had built rather quickly, Adventurers were strewn about coming and going from the small inn that harbored many for rest and food. 

Baine had decided to stay in Pandaria to keep a close eye on Garrosh. He was much older than Baine but more naive in the throes for power. Ever since Thrall had abandoned his post and Garrosh officially made the new Warchief, the things within the Horde had changed. It wasn’t animalistic like many in the Allianced believe, it was harsh and strict but fair. Punishments were dished out for the simplest of things, brutal and disgusting if Baine had any opinion. It was getting harder and harder to maneuver without Garrosh giving his two cents, or demanding to order another way to do it.  _ His way _ . His way. His way. Baine rolled his eyes. He was a toddler at best. Dictator at worst. 

“Good to see you finally out of the chair, Chieftain.” Dezco greeted from his side, his two children resting in weaved baskets hanging off of his chest and his back as a carry-on. They cooed and gurgled like little children would, and Baine reached forward to tickle behind Redhorn’s ear. 

“It is nice to be out, yes, writing letters are time-consuming. But ultimately they are worth it,” He chuckled as Cloudhoof also reached for his hand, Baine pinching his nose. “They are restless today. Why not let them run around a bit?”

“They  _ have _ been. I just came back from Stoneplow. Now that we’ve fixed most of the problems for the locals, it is safer.” He chortled softly and reached over his shoulder to ruffle Redhorn’s peaked tuft of hair. 

“Where do you think your next point of action will be?”

“We have learned more of this Mogu and their Vale in the middle of the continent. I have spoken to the serpent Celestial and she says that our luck getting into the vale lies in earning the worthiness of Xuen and the rest of them. We have done much for Yulon and Niuzao, but we have been unable to reach Chi-Ji and just now going to Xuen.”

“What happened with Chi-Ji?”

“One of my tribesmen has told me there was an attack on the temple from the inside due to the increase of Sha. Rahai, the paladin I sent shortly after the explosion-you could see it from here! Terrible, black clouds waning around it like a beacon. Terrifying, it must have been. But his report was strange…” 

“What was so strange about it? Was there no demon?”

“There was, but there was a human boy in custody of the Celestial and the monastery. He had a far-fetched guess that it was the spawn of Wrynn since he seemed so out of place, but... That seems a tad bit ridiculous, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t the boy return to his father immediately since his shipwreck?”

“Anduin is a bit of a wildcard, surprisingly.” He mumbled as they came to the edge of the camp, looking out toward the wilds. “I wouldn’t shock me if he didn’t return to the Alliance right away. We should leave them be, for now. I will not alert Garrosh. If he was staying at a monastery, the intended purpose would be for the child to learn. It’s not the end of the world.” 

“It is not as if you would send an army after a child anyways, Chieftain.” Dezco chuckled sarcastically. He looked to the sky and frowned, sniffing the air.

“What is it?” Baine asked, turning his muzzle to the sky.

“A storm approaches.” 

* * *

Anduin grumbled as he slid across the stone for the millionth time, catching himself on his hands and pushing himself forward to keep running.  _ The faster I go, the faster I get to shelter _ . He felt as if he could grasp the town in his hands now it was so close.  He was losing ground against the rain, literally, with how hard it was pouring over the plains and valleys. He didn’t even see any yaks out, or even the Kodo-looking creatures grazing. 

He missed seeing the horses, the pigs and other farm animals, the smell of farmland and the sea. Stormwind was the definition of controlled chaos and just the right amount of drunk and friendly. It was that comfort he missed, the comfort of being out in the fields and down by the harbor. In the city, friendly faces would greet you- amusing adventurers acting silly after a long quest. He was seriously homesick, and it felt like a rock in his stomach.

But at the same time, he felt  _ alive _ , being on his own and surviving. Meeting new people, new enemies, new creatures. The land felt so very real, raw, and young. He thought back to the affectionate tiger that had saved him from the Vermin, communicating with him not through words but through his actions. They were different species but Anduin was ready to welcome him to the Wrynn family. Which in itself was very small.  _ Just Father and I. Maybe I could convince him to let me get a dog. I think he would like that, too… _

Anduin looked back up, streams of water dripping down his chin as if he’d just been dunked in the ocean. He blinked the liquid off of his eyelashes and squinted at the sign. It was Halfhill alright, a stream of buildings connected like a gangplank curled around a mass of rock and dirt. He slowed to a walk as he walked toward what looked to be a merchant’s hub right beside an inn looking building. 

Every push of his sore, weak body already fatigued from the infestation of Sha that plagued his body left his legs quaking and his hands trembling with the force of a blender. Anduin squeezed his fists and rubbed the top of his fingers together as the cold forced his muscles to bunch up and cramp. Anduin hissed and looked skeptically at a big panda slouching while lazing on a cart, his face sour and soaked just like he was. Anduin stood there awkwardly as their eyes met. The boy folded his arms and preserved his body heat while standing, shifting on his cold feet and scrunching his toes. 

“Do you want pity or something?” 

“No!” Anduin replied hotly, “I thought you were going to… try to attack me, or something.” 

“Do I look like I’m really going to  _ attack _ anyone?” He spread his arms out and shouted over the rain, his voice a little sluggish. 

“No..” He said again, a little calmer. Anduin sneezed rather abruptly and flushed, ducking his head. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“I came here for a  _ reason _ .” He grumbled, looking back up at the largest building sitting upon the hill. “Just looking for directions, that’s all.” 

“Then you’re looking for the Inn,” when Anduin didn’t move, he groaned like a begrudged teenager. “Come on now, don’t be shy.” The child followed him reluctantly up the hill but was secretly eager to be in a warm place. Up the slippery mud, Anduin grimaced down at his dirty feet and rubbed them against the rough mat on the outside of the Inn. His nose wrinkled at the feel of the squish between his toes and walked inside. 

He sighed at the feeling of warmth sliding over his skin, ceasing the drip of his cloak and the rivulets cascading down his face. Anduin reached up and rubbed at his chin, his palm wet with water as he dried it on his damp cloak. 

“Lolo Lio! Out from the rain I see? Still moping?”

“I still haven’t enough coin to leave this place. I am not a farmer, how many times must I say?”

The Inn was relatively crowded with various Pandaren, the delicious smell of broth wafting from the kitchen behind the front desk. A woman was leaning over the desk, handing a cup over to a patron. Anduin stood behind the big panda stiffly, still trying to warm up from being in the cold, running for maybe two hours on end. Anduin coughed quietly into his fist, sniffing up from his cold, runny nose. 

“Ah, who is that behind you?”

“A traveler,” Lio walked forward and sat at the bar, leaving Anduin to stand there alone until he decided to move closer to the hearth. 

“He is soaked! Poor thing.” Their conversation quieted, but Anduin was close enough in the noisy tavern to hear them. He tugged the already wet, clingy cloak around him tighter and clicked his heels together. 

“He said he was looking for directions, but maybe he should dry off first.” His tone was a bit deadpan, but Anduin felt his bored eyes flick over to him. The priest stared into the fire, trying to act as if he were immersed with the flames as his shaky hands warmed up.

He heard footsteps creak across the floor and a hefty presence next to him, brimming with care and joy. 

“So, where are you headed? Do you not have a map?”

“I have  _ a _ map, but it’s only focused on the wilds. I’m trying to get to the Kun-Lai Summit.”

“I suppose you are in luck then,” Anduin looked over at the woman who plopped down on the bench next to him. “There is a break in the Serpent’s Spine down in Stoneplow, and that is directly west of here. From the break you can pass through the Dread Wastes to the Townlong Steppes which is probably…” she hummed, scratching her chin, “Northwest through the Wastes?” She chuckled, “I used to adventure around this whole continent before I retired, but... I suppose things are more complicated now. Stay for a while and dry off, it is a long journey to Stoneplow on foot.”

“Thank you, but I should head off now.” He stood and felt the dried mud on his heels. “The rain should stop soon.”

“It is a storm, storms on these plains last for days for the harvest.” She corrected worriedly, planting her hands on her hips. “Are you sure you will not stay a while?” 

“Yes, I’m sure, thank you.” He smiled bitterly and walked toward the door, throwing his hood back up and stepping into the downpour once again.

The journey to Stoneplow was no less long, boring, and slippery. Filled with dangerous landslides that hardly missed Anduin by a beat, he knew that this path to the Summit would take a  _ while _ . Two weeks at most, he didn’t plan to dally around when there was important work to be done to preserve this land from the Sha. He didn’t want to see any more corruption than there already was. Not in the droughts that plagued their fields of Westfall, the tsunamis that destroyed the lands of Durotar. It was terrifying and it took a long time to rebuild what was lost. 

The citizens of Westfall were already in outrage with his father’s refusal to do much about them, suffering with their families during the cold winters and the raging storms that have become all the more violent since the disruption and calming of the elements by Thrall’s hand. The death of Neltharion left its mark on the world, both good and bad. They were all just trying to recover, others struggling to survive in the wake of his destruction. 

Anduin sniffed as the next village came into view, an entire burst out section of the Serpent’s Spine showing the complete contrast of the rolling green plains that seemed to symbolize the life that was held in Pandaria, proof that it was just as alive as Azeroth was. But.. the dark blues and blackness of the land that was destroyed beyond the broken walls. He was almost hesitant to travel through, but he knew that he  _ had _ to prove himself through trials and tribulations. How could he face worthiness to Xuen if he couldn’t even face his fears? He knew how to fight, to defend himself. He was strongly connected with the Light- ignoring the countless times it was inconsistent and left him feeling weaker than before- and had powerful spells up his sleeve. 

His heels ached and his calves screamed at him to stop, muscle tears becoming bigger and bigger. He stopped running and panted, cloak weighing down on his back like stones. Anduin stumbled toward what looked to be Stoneplow’s Inn and stepped to the side, standing under an overhanging roof, sliding down the wall and crouching, his bum not quite sitting on the soaked grass. He ran his hands through his hair and squeezed it out a little in his fists, groaning. He probably smelled pretty bad, weeks without being able to bathe would have an effect on his skin. He sighed again as his feet slowly became swollen.  _ I really need to find some shoes _ . 

A shadow cast over him from the already gloomy sky, Anduin looking up from between his arms at a dark-furred Pandaren with a suspicious look on his face and his arms folded tightly across his chest. 

“Ah..” he gulps at the menacing look on his face. Did he do something wrong? Was his face spread across the continent on exaggerated MISSING posters? Was this private property? “Hello, is there something wrong?”

“Where are you going, human?” His voice is much deeper than what you would expect to fall out of his mouth. Anduin straightened and used the wall as support as he stood on his pain-addled feet. He winced as the pressure on his muscles became too cramped. 

“I’m going to the Kun-Lai Summit- I was told this was the only way.” 

“And where have you come from?” Anduin’s eyes dulled. His hands became fidgety, brows twitching. “Have you come to infect our lands with your war?”

“No! The opposite- I.. I’ve come from the temple of Chi-Ji. There… was just an outbreak of the Sha from inside the temple. It… was awful.” He shivered, a wave of despair pulling his mind like the tides, falling back out as he forced himself to clear his mind. “I want to help..” He attempted to convince the authority calmly, but he came out as desperate. A beggar, most likely, frowned upon in this place to act belittled. It wasn’t his intention… but if the Pandaren let him through, it would be worth it. 

“The Sha prey on the innocent. Do not let them corrupt you,” he paused, eyes flickering to the hole in the barrier. “Go quickly. To the northwest through the wastes, and stay as far away from the mantid as possible. You will know what happens if they catch you, human.” he gestured to the various injured Pandaren, being tended to in infirmary tents littered with the same uniformed Pandaren like the one in front of him. 

“Thank you- umm…”

“Commander Loon Mai to you, human.” 

“Thank you, Commander,” He smiled, looking up at him. “I’ll try not to make your job harder out here.” 

“See to it that you don’t.” 

Anduin nodded and turned toward the break in the Spine, a little shaken, stretching his arms as if preparing for a marathon. He approached the change in the land between the nurturing green plains and the infected lands of the Mantid, corrupted by the Sha they seemed to have come to begrudgingly welcome, having what he guessed to be such a confined space to live. 

Anduin took a deep breath and stepped forward. 


	10. Wasteland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin's journey toward the Summit is not as easy as he would like it to be. Varian is tortured by his own failings, while Vol'jin acts to send out damage control as the situation with Garrosh starts to spiral.

Vol’jin read the letter over once, twice, three times over before cold settled over him despite the humid presence of the Echo Isles. Baine’s lettering was wrinkled like chicken scratch, almost frantic. He was worried for their troops settled in the parted mists of Pandaria. Garrosh’s reign was only getting more difficult, the tenacity within the Horde was becoming more dangerous every day. He rested the letter on a nearby table, crouching down and reading the heat-smudged charcoal again. 

“You called?” Vol’jin’s head snapped up at the new voice and dainty footsteps hardly making noise against the old, creaky wooden floors. He stood up to his full height as the elf stopped in front of him, looking annoyed and tired. “Your guards are rude.” He said simply, shucking his hood off, long red hair flowing down his shoulders. A great contrast against the dark armor he wore. 

“They be knowin’ of yah loyalties-”

“My alliances are of my own. That does not concern you,” the high elf’s eyes brightened in their blue hue. “Why am I here? I am returning the favor, so get on with it,” 

“I need ya t’go to Pandaria,” he explained carefully, picking up the letter. “Garrosh be up to no good, and Baine has taken notice,” He handed the paper to the elf. The rogue scanned it over boredly. 

“I thought when you asked me here it would be to kill someone. But, alternatively, this is much simpler.”

“Just keep an eye out for tha’ man, would ya?” Vol’jin grumbled, snatching the paper back and shoving it into a drawer before locking it. “And keep ya mouth shut, ya hear? This is just a quiet task.” The rogue sighed and nodded, turning to leave. 

“Aeloras?” The high elf turned, glaring at him from over his shoulder. 

“What is it?”

“Don’t let Garrosh go too fa’.” The assassin smirked and marched out of the room. 

* * *

Anduin grasped the branch of the tree and hauled himself up with a quiet grunt, his stomach pressing against it as he reached up again.  _ If I get high enough, I can float to the next one. _ He perched on a high bough, creeping forward and trying not to let the amplified anxiety-inducing sounds and creaks of the branch under his slight weight scare him. He saw the other tree just in sight and carefully positioned his feet straight with the branch. He tip-toed forward and kept his hands steadily on the wood, bark creaking under his fingers. 

He leaped off the branch, his spell enveloping his body as he began to float gently toward the next treetop. The wind blew gently through his hair, picking up speed as he began to descent. He pointed his foot and landed softly, breath hitching as a loud crack suddenly came from the base of the branch. Anduin panicked and scurried forward, reaching for another and hanging off it as the other gave out from under his legs. He clung to the wood like driftwood on the ocean, cheek squished against the bark as he attempted to heft himself up. His sore legs dangled uselessly, and Anduin grunted as he moved his foot to brace against the body of the tree, clinging to the wood. He carefully, with shaky breaths, maneuvered down to the first branch, about fifteen feet off the ground. 

A sudden noise came from the top of the tree, Anduin jumped back, his feet losing tract as he fell toward the ground. In his panic, he managed to stop himself from breaking limbs as he hovered, wriggling slightly in the chilly wind on his damp clothes. He landed safely on his weak legs, still panicked from the noise he heard. He breathed slowly as he looked back up, trying to pinpoint the noise. 

His eyes widened and his flight instinct kicked in, jumping backward as a deformed bug screeched at him and pounced from above, turning in an instant and lunging for him. Anduin yelped and ducked out of its way, using his hover spell to jump higher as he descended up the tree he was just on.  _ Better to run up than forward into the unknown? _ He winced as his toes scraped into the bark, climbing as fast as he could. He could hear the stabs of the insect’s prongs into the tree right below him, and he dare not look. 

Grasping onto another branch he flung himself forward, hover already cast. But the thing grasped his calf in its jaws and tugged him back down, smacking his forehead into a branch as he was shaken like a rag doll in it’s ugly, deformed jaw. Anduin squealed in pain as it tore into the meat of his calf, ripping through sinew like grass. He struggled weakly in the awkward upside-down blood-rushing-to-his-head position and cast a frantic holy fire spell into its face. It shrieked and fell with him as they both crashed into the ground. 

It knocked the wind out of him, leaving him wheezing for a moment as the insect recovered quickly and crept back up to his still, quivering form. Anduin flinched and curled away, cringing at the melted bug-armor from his spell. Blood, mucus, and whatever that purple stuff was dripped down its frothing jaw. Anduin groaned and prepared for an ugly death, but a sudden sound struck and the priest whipped his head over. He saw two of those assumed mantid creatures begin to approach, clearly not seeing him yet. He rolled away and found a hole hidden inside the base of the tree, covered by underbrush and thorn bushes. He grimaced and hugged his cloak tighter around himself, pushing down the shouts in his throat as thorns lodged themselves in his feet. 

He managed to cover the entrance completely with underbrush, hiding in the shadows as the dying screech of the creature echoed from within the tiny chamber. Anduin flinched as loud sniffing noises came from the other side of the bark where his ear was plastered to. He held his breath and curled up, clutching to his knees as his dark cloak was draped around himself to camouflage into the shadows. He could feel the presence right in front of the hollow, bug-like eyes creeping in. They spoke in a harsh, unfathomable language, leaving Anduin confused and more scared than before that he couldn’t tell whether they knew he was there or not. 

He bit into his bottom lip as his calf pulsated, leaving tears of pain running down his face as he strived to reach into the Light for comfort. His entire body was tense, his injured calf trying to simulate this as well- only to retract in pain, leaving the limb twitching and useless. He clutched onto his ankle to try and squeeze the white-hot pain away and distract himself with the pressure.

_ Light. Why can’t I feel the Light?! _ He panicked, waiting for the footsteps to walk away before stumbling out of the thorny underbrush with numb fingers as he clutched to his chest, the wind a fresh breeze of air against his leg.  _ I can’t walk. I can’t feel my leg. Why can’t I feel my leg?! _ He glanced back down at it and held his breath, eyes wide. 

It was an ugly mess, muscle torn and twisted and showing a bit of bone. It made him want to throw up, feeling the bile rise in his esophagus. Anduin swallowed it down and turned back to look at it again. A bubbly purple mass clung to the red, bloody tendons, sinking into his leg and making the tiny veins he could make out purple.  _ A venom? But… what kind?  _ His mind began to fog as he crouched on all fours, attempting to stand but falling to his knees. The boy grit a wail through his teeth as his leg throbbed.  _ I can’t put any weight on it. I need like, a crutch or something _ . He managed to rationalize through the panicked haze settling over his mind.  _ How long does this stuff last? It could be like a venomous snake bite, a matter of minutes _ . He clenched his jaw as a hiccup went through him, a result of the tears.  _ I can’t sleep now. I can’t stop, I have to get out of here _ . 

He felt humiliated though he knew no one was watching as he crawled toward the treeline just by the hollowed softwood, grasping for a long, sturdy hardwood stick he saw- most likely dead- but strong enough to carry him.  _ I hope _ . He gripped the wood tight, his own fists shaking with fear as he stumbled forward the first few steps, the stick bigger than he was by only a mere inch. 

“Anduin!”

The boy’s head shot up at his father’s voice, nearly falling forward before he grasped the stick firmly in his clammy palms. He glanced around wildly.  _ Was that real? _

“Anduin, please, look at me!”

“Father?” He turned around and stared into the treeline, seeing nothing but darkness. 

“Tell me, my son, where are you?”

Anduin went silent, ears perking up at every noise. 

“Anduin!” 

The voice sounded so far away but so close, making his ears ring from a high pitch uncontrollably as he searched wildly for the source of his father’s voice. 

“Anduin, where are you? It’s okay, it’s gonna be alright. You can tell me.” 

Too afraid to respond, Anduin began to back away cautiously from the treeline. 

“Son? Where are you? Please! I can help you-I can save you!” 

The voice became more desperate but more distant. Anduin hunched in on himself as he turned fully and limped away, practically digging the stick into the ground with each step. 

“No, no, no, don’t go! Don’t leave!” 

Tears renewed in his eyes as he walked away.  _ It’s not real, Anduin. It’s not him. He couldn’t have found you so suddenly. He can’t be talking to me. The venom is creating a hallucination. _ He tried to reassure himself with the thought of it all being a lie, but something within him felt that it wasn’t. 

Anduin held strong to his walking stick, arms shaking from holding up his weight as the venom spread up his leg. He could feel it crawling like little garden chiggers. It made him shiver and walk faster. He could see a large log in the distance, creating a bridge between a chasm that separated the wastes from the Steppes. 

Was that really his father? Calling out to him, pleading for him to tell him where he was, where he was going? It couldn’t have been real. It couldn’t have been.

Could it?

* * *

Varian rested in his bed, bottles on bottles of liquor sitting toppled or straight on his desk across the room. He lifted his head up slightly and moved his arm from its straight position from his head, numb tingles waking it up slowly. He shook it for a moment to get the process going faster before he sat up, rubbing his aching head. He looked again at the bottles. Two.. four, five small bottles of hard whiskey lay on his nightstand and on the floor. He grimaced and rubbed his mouth, feeling the scratch of bristly stubble. He could distantly hear Anduin’s complaints about it from a mile away. 

Varian stood up slowly, giving his head a chance to calm before he started to walk forward, reaching out to the handles of the dresser. 

He grasped at nothing.

Varian raised an eyebrow and looked down at what he thought to be the dresser, but it was just the floor instead. He looked back up and found the dressed hundreds of feet away, stretching into darkness. He peered back up and found his room all the same on the other side, but for some reason… the wall… Did it extend? Varian began to walk forward cautiously, feeling the darkness enclosed around him before he found himself walking only in the void. Varian put his hands up to stop the sudden vertigo that wracked his body, falling to his knee as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Tilting his head back up, he inhaled sharply. 

“Anduin?” He asked, nearly shouting to how far away the boy seemed. He was ragged, face pale with a bleeding leg wound, his eyes frantic and posture hunched into himself. Varian began to stumble forward, his son seeming to get closer before just… Getting further away. The boy turned away from him, head whipping around as if in hope, but becoming confused. 

“Anduin, please, look at me!”

“Father?” He was looking around again, staring into the distance. His voice was warbled and faint, extremely echoed in the empty space of the dark chasm. He was clutching onto a large stick, his infected leg nearly giving out on him. Varian lurched forward into a run.  _ He’s hurt. He’s hurt! _

“Tell me, my son! Where are you?!” Anduin became close enough to where Varian stopped, the boy staring straight at him. Staring straight  _ through _ him. He didn’t reply, suddenly looking scared. “Anduin!” He stepped forward again, close enough to touch. Varian reached a handout, thumb gently grazing his cheek before he kneeled in front of the boy, staring worriedly at his buckled leg. He was placing almost all of his weight on the stick. The veins around the wound were blackened and pulsing. His breaths picked up, framing the boy’s face with his hands. 

“Anduin, where are you? It’s okay, it’s gonna be alright. You can tell me.” He brushed his fingers across the greasy strands plastered to his sweaty forehead. His eyes were darting around wildly as if alert. “Son? Where are you? Please, I can help you-I can, I can save you!” 

Anduin began to back away, clinging to his walking stick as he limped heavily, backing away from him and looking around with an intense paranoid look. Varian began to move forward after him but found his feet stuck in the same gooey venom that was intertwined into Anduin’s wound. He reached a hand out after him, ignoring the tears that fell down his face. 

“No, no, no, don’t go! Don’t leave!” Varian tried again to move forward, but fell to his knees. He sat back and furiously wiped his eyes. “Please, baby, don’t go.” He dug his fingers into his hair as the shadows he saw surrounded him once more. 

Varian awakened with a yell, his head immediately punishing him with a harsh, white-hot shot of hangover that went straight to his eyes. He barely flinched at the quick opening of his office doors, back aching and neck cricked awkwardly. 

“King Wrynn, are you alright?!” The guards asked, weapons drawn. Varian waved them away.

“Just a bad and ill-timed nap. I’m fine, men, back to your posts.” He dismissed them with a wave and rubbed the back of his neck, hissing as it cracked. “ _ Very _ ill-timed.” He groaned down at the papers he was signing, the ink slightly smeared. He dabbed at his cheek and found the ink on his fingers. He reached over for a handkerchief and wiped at the side of his bristly face roughly, staining the pure white rag. He threw it back down on the desk and wiped away the smeared ink as best he could with his thumb. It was a messy signature, but it was his, no doubt. He put it back into its’ file and reached for the next one, pausing slightly. 

What was that dream? A simple night terror to torment him of his own failings? Was it a warning, some sort of vision? Varian wracked his brain to think back on the nightmare. It seemed to replicate Anduin’s current condition, his current emotions. It seemed  _ too _ real to be a fake, too detailed and specific. He’d only responded  _ once _ too, he must have thought, with that wound, that he was hallucinating. He’d understand the skepticism if he were in the boy’s shoes. He was hurt, scared,  _ alone _ . That disturbed Varian, the fact that he was on his own. He was only fourteen, for the Light’s sake! The boy was smart enough to act like an adult, but not enough to ask for help?  _ Damn him and his stupid selfless ways. _ Varian cursed it and stared angrily at his paperwork. 

* * *

Aeloras hid under his hood as he entered the small tavern roughly built-in Hellscream’s Fist, the new base for the Horde in the Jade Forest. The elf approached a deep green-skinned orc nursing a large tankard full of ale, no doubt already on his way to drown out the latest adventurer. He skimmed his fingers along the shaman’s back, grinning as he rolled it out of reflex, a chill running down his spine. 

“Hello, Raff.” He smiled and leaned against the counter, ordering a light beverage. The orc hummed, sipping from his cup as he turned to the elf, leaning his hip on the counter. 

“Job’s going well,” He said subtly, swirling the liquid around the cup. Aeloras traced his finger around the rim and chuckled. 

“Has the buffoon done any of his clown tricks yet?” He questioned sultrily, a grin spread even further when the annoyed look crossed his friend’s face. 

“Not tricks as of yet, but something else.” Aeloras looked up from the brown ale in his mug and tilted his head over. Raffein grunted as his hand around his cup tightened. “He’s using the Sha to experiment on his own kor'kron. Some sort of… loyalty-steroid, or something, from what I heard. It’s supposed to make them a sort of genetically enhanced super-being. It hasn’t actually  _ worked,  _ so far as we know, they’ve all succumbed to the Sha’s infection. They’ve gone mad.” Aeloras’ expression became grim as he finally took a long gulp from the cup. Raffein’s hand fell on his shoulder, squeezing tenderly. The elf shook his head. 

“Disgusting man, that orc,” He cursed, running his fingers across his bare knuckles, then crossing to the fabric. “Despicable. Those soldiers probably have families, friends, and he’s using them in a grasp for better power. It’s becoming repetitive at this point. The struggle for political prowess.” He unclenched his shaking fists. “I’ve seen the chambers. Far underneath the Ragefire Chasm. He’s conducting the experiments there, with some undead scientists to match. It’s… disturbing.” 

“You’ve seen this happen?” Raffein’s grip tightened as he shuffled closer, a concerned look crossing his hard face. 

“More times than I’d like to…” He pressed down on his closed lids, folding his other arm across the counter and rubbing his arm shakily. “It’s… I never thought I’d actually be nervous around something like that again.” 

“It... It can’t be as bad as it sounds.” Raffein tried to use a terrible line of damage control. Aeloras scoffed but looked down at his drink before turning to his friend. He placed a pale hand on his arm, a look on his face that became pleading. 

“For the sake of your safety and my heart,  _ please _ , stay away from him. Go find Vol’jin and stick with him. You’ll be safer there.”

“I can’t just ignore this.”

“I’m not asking you to  _ ignore it _ , I’m asking you to stay out of his way for now. He’s too… there are too many connections.” Raffein glowered down at the floor before he stared Aeloras straight in the eyes and nodded. 

“Just be careful, Aeloras. Don’t give yourself away.” 

* * *

Anduin fell into a tree, catching himself and leaning heavily on it, panting. He rested his forehead against the bark, staring down at his exposed leg. He felt the infection creeping up his flank, nearly to his vital organs. It had been maybe six hours since he started walking, and Anduin felt like he was dying. 

_ That because you are, you moron _ . He grit his teeth and a guttural whimper fell through his mouth as he picked himself back up.  _ I have to keep going. There has to be someone out there, somewhere. _ Anduin pushed off of the tree and clenched the stick, hearing it crack suddenly. He stumbled forward, seeing the log-bridge not even two hundred feet away from him. It still felt like miles, but he knew that he’d be out of the wasteland soon. 

Anduin coughed, flecks of blood staining the back of his hand. His skin was graying, graying like a fresh corpse drained of blood. Anduin felt his breath hitch as he hobbled further toward the bridge. He reached out to the Light again, praying for a response.  _ Please _ , he begged,  _ please help me! _ His breaths became labored when the Light didn’t reply, and he nearly cried. 

Light footsteps quickly picked up behind him, and Anduin panicked. He bolted forward as fast as he could manage, legs screaming and weakening with every strained, bloody step. He thundered across the bridge, the overgrown, old log creaking and groaning in the sudden distress. The stick Anduin was carrying got nabbed out of his hands from behind, causing him to nearly trip forward. He scurried on his hands and knees, having to drag himself forward as he cowered pathetically in an intersection, dark and alone. He panted and back away, yelping as his leg protested the movement with a violent pulse of a thousand flames. He closed his eyes and curled up as a rugged spear came close to his nose, turning away from it.

_ Just leave me alone. I’m going to die anyway! Or… or make it quick _ . He curled up further as the abrupt sounds of heavy, fast footsteps rushed past him. Battle-shouts echoed in the forested area, and Anduin couldn’t help but curl up tighter.  _ I’m scared. What’s going on?  _ He opened his blurry eyes slightly, peeking over.  _ Just.. just a look _ . He saw a group of four Pandaren in the exact  _ same _ uniform as those in Stoneplow and the commander, Loon Mai. He propped himself up on his arms, hardly able to hold his fatigued body up as he the four took down the pack of mantid with ease. When finished, they turned back to him. He began to push himself away from them slowly, his vision becoming blurry and showing him double-no, triple… quadruple visions of the Pandaren that had saved him. 

“His leg!” One gasped. 

“It’s that mantid poison. But... it’s usually in flask form. How did it get into a  _ bite _ like that?”

“Infected wildlife?”

“Possibly.”

“How long do you think he’s dealt with it?” Furry hands were grabbing at him now, pulling him up as he stared, dazed, into the distance. Something grabbed at his pant leg and shoved it up. Anduin yelped in pain as the wound was dragged an aggravated. He was shushed softly and pulled along once they finished inspecting his wound. 

“About an hour and a half or so.”

“That’s one of the longest recorded survival. Is it because he is human? Has he had other exposures to poisons?”

“He does not look fully grown, why would he mess with those things?”

“‘ _ He _ ’ probably has a name, and doesn’t really like us talking about him like he’s not here.”

“He looks disoriented and confused, I don’t think he really is capable of responding at this point. We’ll ask later.” 

He was pulled along to a camp, the boy nearly unable to walk as another Pandaren has to come to his aide.

He remembered being laid down, and his leg feeling like it was leaking… something. Wrapped in a soft cloth, the pain eventually fading. Everything was just so… unclear and rushed. He was laid on his side after that, off of his injured leg. Fed a liquid that he could barely swallow before he was fast asleep. 

He woke up sometime later, the time flying by so fast that he could hardly remember what happened. Anduin sat up slowly, his head aching, throat parched and leg also thudding like his heart was down there. He grimaced and leaned forward, pulling his good knee up.  _ I’m tired of these leg injuries.. I seriously need to invest in some kind of armor. Father will be overjoyed about that… I think _ . He rested his chin on his knee and looked up. He was laid in a small tent, placed on a bedroll and kept there for… he glanced back out. It was nighttime. Late, but early. 

Anduin rotated around, leaning on his hip as he peered out of the tent. He was too nervous to use his leg to stand, so he instead sat back and drew it up carefully, wincing as stitches pulled.  _ I didn’t feel a needle before… maybe I just didn’t remember _ . Anduin stretched his calf back out slightly, clenching his teeth together at the soreness. It wasn’t  _ nearly _ as bad as it was before, and he was thankful. Whoever healed him… Anduin sighed and shook his head. He didn’t have much to give him. 

He whipped his head up and glanced around wildly, trying to find his near and dear precious satchel that had stayed with him through  _ all _ of this mess. Anduin turned around and grasped it. It was in the corner behind him, undisturbed, stained, and worn. He clutched it tightly to his chest and looked through it. Everything was in its place, his binoculars were a little broken, the glass over the compass was also slightly cracked. But everything was relatively okay. 

He shut his satchel with the clasp and rested his chin on his chest, the bag pressed against it as well as he closed his eyes and breathed. 

“Human.” Anduin flinched and flicked his eyes open.

“You-you're the ones who helped me, correct?” He asked timidly, attempting to stand. He grasped the hand extended to him and stood, looking up at the man. “Thank you, very much... I.. I would have died! I can’t do much to repay you, but…” He shrunk slightly under the scrutinizing stare. 

“We did not help for repayment, human. We helped because we could. And those mantids have been extending too far into our territory.”

“Right… right,” he cleared his throat. “I… I shouldn’t cause you much more trouble. Thank you all very much. I should be on my way now, though. Ah- actually, may I ask for directions?” He backtracked, fidgeting his hands together. 

“Where?”

“The Summit, where do I go from here?” 

The Pandaren looks suspicious again, but points toward the path. 

“Go north. You will pass a big, beautiful tree that leads on the path directly toward the Summit. You will run into a Yaungol camp just before the gates. Tread carefully.” Anduin bowed respectfully, throwing his satchel over his shoulder. The smile left his face as soon as he left the camp, feeling the stares into his back. 

_ Creepy _ , he sighed as he surged the newly-resurged Light into his leg.  _ I shouldn’t trust them too easily _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels kind of rushed, sorry. I wanted to get it done. Hopefully, it's not too much of a mess.


	11. Kri'vess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin finds that sometimes it's nice to feel not so alone. Varian makes a choice to leave his son alone... for now.

Anduin stared down at his compass as he walked, occasionally looking up the path to make sure he hadn’t strayed from the north. Three hours after he left the camp on shaky terms with the Pandaren who saved him. They didn’t seem out of place, but it was just plain old strange. He was very grateful that they saved his life. He was wondering, though, what they represented with those uniforms. Neither Ren nor Lina explained to him any military powers in Pandaria, Alanhang didn’t mention any either. Not even  _ Nazgrim _ . Maybe they were aware and didn’t find them a threat. Anduin, however, was a little threatened by them anyways. Maybe it was because he was on his own, that they could strike him anytime and kill him simply for being part of the Alliance. That’s what they did.  _ Do _ . That’s what they  _ do _ . 

Anduin looked up again and stopped in his tracks, mouth falling open as he stared up at this  _ enormous _ , monstrous tree. It was absolutely beautiful though, it’s rich colored leaves grouped in thick bushes hanging off of sturdy branches. Anduin had a sudden urge to explore, and he started walking toward it. 

The base of the tree was as big as the throne room, spiraling up like a smooth staircase. He lifted a foot up and reached up to grab a small branch, pulling himself to the next and so forth. It made his sore leg a little unhappy, but Anduin didn’t really care. The view.. It was  _ amazing _ . He’d never really been scared of heights, feeling like a speck in the world gave him more curiosity to see what he’s never been allowed to see. Walk where he wasn’t allowed to walk. Something about defying expectations made him happier than he’d felt in a long time. There were no limitations. He didn’t have to hold himself back when no one was watching. 

Anduin couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he climbed higher and higher, reaching a branch that was thick enough for him to sit and watch the sky, the land, the tiny dots of people and animals living and thriving. The sun was beautiful, rising from the darkness evaporating slowly from the sky as Azeroth’s moons set. The Blue Child said goodbye, and they said hello to the new dawn. 

He felt the Light warm within himself as he curled up on the branch, laughing giddily and swinging his legs. He could feel the breeze in his hair, the dew in the sky setting on his skin. The echo of the birds and the people, the taste of a new day. He could almost picture his mother, her sweet smile that his father said that he could mirror easily. He wondered if her nose wrinkled like his did when she smiled. He couldn’t picture much, but what was there he could take with a grain of salt. And he was content with it. There weren’t many details, just his point of view as she cooed down at him. He inhaled again and almost smelled the musky, calming scent of his father beside him.

_ They’re here.  _

* * *

Varian growled as he read over another pointless report, stepping over a clutter of nails and a cord of plank wood, nearly crumpling and ripping the paper in the grip of his gauntlet. He was getting tired of the repetitive findings. Nothing of interest here or there, an occasional skirmish with the Horde that sent both sides retreating, one eventually winning over time. Sometimes it was them, sometimes it was the Horde. 

“King Varian,” A heavily accented voice cut over his frustrated thoughts again, and the warrior turned just before the office. 

“What?” He demanded, voice sharp and impatient as Khantis approached him. 

“We just came back from the temple, the refugees are handling it well but they have not returned the monastery to its full facility. It might take a few months.” 

“Anything else, warrior?” 

“We found out that Anduin was there, for quite a while, actually. He’s…”

“How is he?” Varian briefly reflected back to the nightmare. The way Anduin looked… it wasn’t good. 

“We don’t know.” Varian went silent… of course, it wouldn’t make sense to ask that, Anduin was obviously alone. “He’s been evading our search parties, without even knowing that they’re there.” Khantis sighed. “We… argued before he left. Maybe that was one reason,” Varian turned back to the Draenei, brow raised. 

“You  _ argued _ ?” Khantis, looking a little guilty, nodded. 

“I yelled at him for acting so childish. But he was gone before I could apologize.” 

“I don’t blame you… I.. I would have done the exact same thing.” Varian huffed. “Sometimes it’s hard to talk to him. He’s just as stubborn as I am, so I’m sorry for that. It’s probably a genetic thing.” The two men laughed, entering his office. “I just wish I could. Talk to him, I mean.” 

“Yes… well, so far as the search parties know, he disappeared into the Mantid territory- the Wastes. I’ve no doubt he’s  _ out _ of there by now, he’s been recently spotted in the Steppes only a day after he walked through the Wastes. Though he didn’t look too good. If you want them to engage, now would be a good time while he’s idling.” He jutted his chin toward the map. Varian pursed his lips and shook his head. 

“I… I think it is best if I leave him be, for now. This…  _ teenage rebellion _ ,” the words felt tasteless on his lips, “will come to an end soon once he finds what he was looking for.” 

“I see,” Khantis’ hands clasped tightly behind his back. “The Shado-pan commander in Stoneplow told us that he passed through rather quickly, and reports from the other side report an Alliance boy passing through, they actually healed him, only two days ago. The wounds were,” He straightened his jaw, silent for a moment,  “not pretty.” 

“But the Commander said he left him alone since he is a child. It makes sense, though I would stay cautious if I were that  _ troublemaker _ .” He grumbled, relaxing his posture. “I’m getting tired of this. Chasing him down. He obviously doesn’t want to be found, but he doesn’t understand that he is  _ not _ safe.” The warrior stressed, fingers twitching. Varian sat on the desk and scratched the back of his head.

“If it’s anything like chasing him around the keep and not finding him for hours on end, then yes, I know how you feel.” Khantis chuckled at him, shaking his head. 

“Not quite life-threatening, but close.” 

“If you could, though, even as I just said I won’t bother him, go to the Summit. I’ll cancel the search parties. Just make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.” Khantis straightened his back and nodded. 

“I can do that,” He re-adjusted the sword on his back, rolling his shoulders to get the stiffness out of them. Khantis stopped in front of the door. “One question, though,” he turned his head halfway and eyed the exhausted human. 

“What is it?” Varian looked halfway up from the report in his hand. 

“Anduin said that when we argued, I sounded like you,” Varian tensed slightly, causing Khantis to frown. The air became still, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “Is there anything going on between you two?” Varian swallowed as he remembered their last argument. Before Anduin returned to the Azuremyst Isles, Varian still couldn’t understand  _ why _ he didn’t want to learn there, in Stormwind, at  _ home _ . Anduin argued that he never listened, and even if he did explain it he wouldn’t understand it. Feeling understandably angry at being insulted by a child, Varian… well... He slapped him.

 He thought he hadn’t hit him too hard, but the stark bruise on his pale cheek the very next morning implied that it was  _ much _ more violent than he’d wanted it to be. Varian was mortified, took him into his office and apologized profusely. Anduin had barely responded, returning to his master only a few hours later without so much as a word of farewell to his father. 

“It’s complicated. You’re dismissed.” He answered cautiously, watching from under his hair as the warrior eventually left. He didn’t know why the man was getting into their life. He knew that Anduin was seen as a part of their family, and Varian had no doubt that the boy had shared some… not very nice situations of them that he’d suffered through. While he understood the need to vent, if any of it got out, the authorities would try to fix it with more than words. While he was the king, any news of abuse within the royal family would land him in the Stockades. No king was above the law. He wasn’t corrupt. He wasn’t secretive. He wasn’t  _ paying _ off any of his guards to keep what they hear quiet. They say what they say. Any who want to confront him can do so under their own free will. 

Varian set the paper down and sighed. Taylor was reported found in Binan village under the protection of the Pandaren there. He was injured but alive, recovering. Varian would rather have him rest and be at full strength for their battles with the Horde in the near future. He wouldn’t want the man idiotically pushing himself too far.  _ Just like someone I know all too well _ . 

* * *

Anduin held tight to the bark as he descended the tree, sticking close to the body just in case any high winds decided to knock him down. His toe scraped the sharp skin of the tree, wincing as it stung. He locked his knees and made the final step down, falling the rest of the way. His leg detested this, but Anduin was too content to care. He jogged toward the path again, satchel bouncing lightly on his hip as he walked with a hop in his step. 

He swallowed dryly as his throat begged for water. His skin had absorbed a lot from the… “grass” of the Wastes, especially a lot during that whole downpour from Halfhill to Stoneplow. He hadn’t realized how long he’d gone without drinking water or eating food until the high wore off. He was a little down again, but it didn’t stop his spirit from pressing onward. He knew he would only get more parched the more he walked. 

_ There has to be a river around here somewhere… _ He knew he could survive a long time without food… _ not like I haven’t done that before _ , Anduin thought bitterly and glared down as his thin wrists. He shook his head and turned back to the problem at hand. Water. Anything longer than eleven days and the person in question would perish from dehydration, but sometimes it could get even worse after the thirst. 

The priest sighed as he trumped up the hill, occasionally licking his dry lips and sucking in the frigid air as his mood fell slowly but surely.  _ At least it isn’t a million degrees. The Summit sounds like it’s covered in snow. _ Anduin looked back up toward the long gate, built on the back of the early Pandaren slaves. His brows furrowed as he stared up at the white peaks of the mountain directly beside the gate, overgrown greens spreading across the mighty stone arch.

He stopped at the top of the hill, stuffing his compass back into his satchel and throwing his hood up. Somehow, it made him feel safer with another layer covering him. Just ahead was a broken gate and two angry-looking yak-men wielding large axes and fog-breath snouts. _This must be the Yaungol_ _those Pandaren were talking about_. He approached the arch nervously and swept his cloak around himself, attempting to hide like a child under a blanket fearing the monsters under their bed. He stopped just a few yards away and clutched the strap of his satchel underneath the cloak. The two Yaungol growled and approached him. 

“What do you want, outsider?!” One shouted, voice deep and grungy. Anduin flinched and put his hands out. 

“I just wish to pass through!” He called back, feet planted firmly on the ground just as they moved forward more, axes clutched in their paws. Anduin flinched as they took him by his arms, nearly dragging him through the camp. 

“Do not try anything, whelp. Or we will  _ crush you _ .” One spoke lowly to him as they pulled him through, passing by many imprisoned Pandaren. Anduin’s eyes widened. Were… were they even alive? Most were immobile, blood matting their fur in various placed. Others were staring at him with just as much curiosity and worry as he did them. The grip of the Yaungol was tight enough to hurt, bruising his arms as they shoved him through the gates. Anduin gulped as he looked back at them, their snouts huffing out warm clouds of air against the cold. Anduin hissed as his bare feet hit the snow, wrapping his arms around himself as he took one last glance at the Pandaren in the Yaungol prisons, injured… but alive. If there was one of those military Pandaren groups nearby, he could warn them. 

The priest looked down at his reddening feet, toes scrunching as he began to traipse forward up the icy cobblestone path. The gradual switch in temperatures was horrible, and it left him freezing. Anduin clenched his chattering teeth together and pushed himself on.  _ I could… eat the snow here, for the dehydration _ . He glanced down at the grown pure white tempting his dry mouth. Anduin grimaced.  _ Maybe later… _ He decided,  _ I can go a little longer without resorting to eating off the ground for Light’s sake… _ He huffed and turned away from his thoughts. 

Anduin marched up the hill, slipping on the ice and scraping his feet. He grunted as the cold coursed through him, nearing numb. It was so cold, and he was walking  _ up _ . Like a thousand chilled needles pinning him against the wind. He could barely feel the pain in his leg. Anduin sealed his cloak shut and huddled in the warmth. Little snowflakes were stuck to his face and his clothes, quickly melting and causing him to become colder.  _ I don’t do well in the cold… thanks… _ he flashed back briefly, banging on the doors of the dungeon as the dust collected around him, cold and shivering as she smiled at him, pushing open his window while extinguishing the fire in the hearth. Anduin squeezed his eyes shut and smacked himself, but he could barely feel his fingers against his numb cheek. 

Feeling desperate, he began to run down the path, finally over the hill and following a clear-cut path through the falling snow. The weather was getting worse, the snow coming down in larger flakes, weighing his cloak down the more they melted. Soon they would begin freezing against him. He passed by a clearing, seeing Pandaren huddling in their tents despite them probably having thicker skin than he. Was it really that cold? He couldn’t feel it much anymore. 

Anduin huddled further into his cloak as a harsh wind caused him to slide to a halt just to shield himself from it. He’d never really known true cold, he’d been to Ironforge and outside into Dun Morogh but was it as cold as this? Would it feel like razor blades slicing against his ruby-red cheeks, biting at his bare toes, chipping away at his fingers. Light... it was awful.  _ I really need to find some shoes. Or… _ He looked down at his cloak, eyes avoiding his intensely reddening feet. Anduin spots a clear tree and rushes toward it, climbing up to the first branch. He brushes the snow away and seats himself, pushing out his cloak and taking the chipped dagger from his satchel. He cuts off two large squares and wraps his feet tightly, skipping his heel because it had tougher skin than the rest of his foot. He always walked on the tops of his feet, always maintaining a silent stride, but it was too sensitive to cold. The cloth probably wouldn’t help as much, it wasn’t weather-resistant, but it would minimize direct contact with the snow and that was all he really needed. 

He dropped from the branch and cringed as the fabric became wet. He hurried back onto the path and began running again, his stomach growling as his lungs cramped. It didn’t stop him, though. He could see a crossroads in the path up ahead where it split off into a dip between two hills. Once he got closer, he saw three different cottages with little puffs of smoke from indoor hearths leaking out the doorless archways. Anduin sighs and smiles. It looked quaint and cozy, the snow falling gently onto the frozen brown grass. It was a nice place to make a home, not quite hidden but also easy to miss. 

Anduin felt a chill race up his spine and he shuddered violently, shaking his head and jostling his arms. He felt for his shoulder and prodded at the skin underneath his tunic. A deep scar from the gunshot wound, still a little raw but not hurting like his leg. He pursed his lips and exhaled a puff of white clouds from his nose. His leg wasn’t really telling him to stop but it was definitely indicating that he should be easy. Otherwise, he’d tear the stitches.  _ Wait... where am I going to get these removed? _ He thought for a moment, his first realization.  _ I hope they have medics or something in that temple… _ He glanced up at the tall, foreboding temple stretching across mountains in the not-so-far distance.  _ Just a little longer, leg. Then you’ll be able to heal properly _ . He started up a light jog again and tried not to focus on his numb limbs. 

A sudden crack in the trees beside him caused Anduin to panic for a minute, stumbling away out of his jog. Eyes wide, he stared intensely into the non-existent treeline and clearly saw a pack of Yaungol coming for him. Their snouts huffed, obviously in some kind of rage. Anduin tensed and put his hands out to placate them, mouth falling open as he attempted to say something.

He was cut off before he could utter a word, a spear lodging itself into the hill beside him. Anduin yelped and began to run down the path, hearing the hoof-steps get louder, he took a sudden detour into the flat snowy land. He dropped down and slid through a bank of fluffy snow, using the powdery puff-cloud as cover as he descended further into the plains. He could hear the yells and spears fly by him, sinking into the snowy ground. The slush came up to his knees, and Anduin found it getting harder and harder to run. He dared not to look behind him, casting a shield over himself just as he felt another whip of wind beside him, the spear coming close enough to almost pierce his ear. 

He saw figures in the distance, much smaller than the Yaungol behind him. Maybe more of those monks? Anduin hopped back up onto the path and turned toward the temple, spotting a wall with rocks jutted out, parting into a cliff with a tiny cave-dent. The rocks were small enough for  _ him _ to be the only one able to climb them. He headed toward the formation and climbed up the wall as fast and as desperately as a monkey. He threw another shield over himself as the creatures began to assault him with spears, arrows, and magic. He could feel his barrier weakening and backed into the small divot, curling into the wall and holding his arms over his head just as a ball of spiked shards embedded themselves just above his head. 

He yelped as a piece of shard broke through his barrier, the whole thing nearly failing as he huddled close to the ground. An axe chopped right into the stone as a Yaungol hauled himself up, reaching for Anduin with a crooked grin on his face. He snatched the boy by the back of his cloak, nearly choking him before he reaffirmed his grip to the back of his neck. He arched his head back and frantically reached back to claw at his large hand. The Yaungol raised him up high above his head and roared victoriously like he was some sort of prize, the others cheering for their leader as Anduin struggled, kicking and punching and clawing. He grunted and yelled and managed to land a good kick to his jaw, causing the Yaungol to huff angrily. It brought him down to eye level, his chipped nails digging into the back of Anduin’s neck. The prince wriggled away from his hot, stinky breath and kneed him in the chin. 

An arrow sped by his nose and sunk into the Yaungol’s throat, spurting blood as his grip loosened on the prince. Anduin slipped out of his hold and fell back to the cliff, shield brought back in once the Yaungol was distracted. He scooted as close to the wall as he could, wheezing as he felt for the little pricks of blood smearing on the back of his neck. He coughed, inhaling sharply with the cold stabbing his throat like a dagger. He rested on his knees and felt for his calf, grimacing as it stung the moment he touched it. His legs were getting numb and apparently, some of the stitches ripped underneath the gauze.  

“Anduin, get down here  _ right _ now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THE NEW MODELS??? WRATHION, CALIA, ZEKHAN and uuuuhhh VALEERA YEAH OMG you guys
> 
> I AM SO PISSEd... look at every major character's model and then look at Anduin's... do you understand the frustration... HE LOOKS UGLY AF GUYS we nEEd to START a petition for Blizzard to UPDATE Anduin's model to something nicer like ya'll remember that cinematic when Khadgar warned Varian and Anduin about the Legion?? WHAT ABOUT THAT MODEL?? IT WAS PERFECT!!
> 
> {Also please follow my twitter @anduinincorrect and my art instagram @crownsart! If you do I appreciate the support bc none of my followers on my art acc look at my stuff ;-;}


	12. Binan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor wakes up to a nasty friend.

Taylor groaned, hand immediately coming to his chest as the pain faded quicker than he felt the stabbing ache just under his pectoral. The Admiral glanced around the room, tight and cozy with a soft fire gleaming in the hearth. Little cracks and ashes burst from the small logs as the tightly chopped wood burned and split apart. Woven baskets full of rice flour and another full of jars with little powders in them of all colors, presumably spices, and dried herbs. He inhaled the powerful scents around him, overwhelmed. Taylor sat up straighter and set his feet down on the warm wooden floors, blinking the slight blurriness out of his eyes and looking across to the bed beside him. 

An orc, and not just any orc. 

General Nazgrim. And he was staring right at him with the same confused look on his face. Taylor acted first, reaching for the nearest sharp weapon, an arrow, just as Nazgrim leaped up to snatch his bicep and throw him around into the nightstand. Taylor grunted and rolled over, ignoring the protest from his stiff muscles as he stabbed the arrowhead into Nazgrim’s calf. The orc roared and smashed his fist down, Taylor rolling out of the way just as it cracked through the hollow floorboards. 

“Enough!” A paw shot out and threw Taylor out of the way, the bloody arrow sticking out of Nazgrim’s leg. Taylor huffed and wrapped an arm around his ribs, using the wall to stand as human and orc stared each other down. A female Pandaren stepped in between them, a hard look on her face as her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“You, back on the bed. I will send for a healer. You,” She turned to Taylor, “with me.” Taylor spared one last mistrusting look at Nazgrim before he stepped out of the cottage with the woman. 

“Commander Hsieh, and as long as you are here, you are under my authority,” She said quickly as she lead him toward an open training ground. She retrieved a redwood bow from the rack next to a quiver and handed the belt to him. “I assume you’re well enough to fight since you just tried to take down the orc,” Taylor grunted as she handed him the bow. He clutched it awkwardly, tugging at the string to see how tight it was. Reasonably put together, it wasn’t a training bow. He was better with a blade than a string. 

“I can tell that you are restless. Go find those Draenei men who just showed up, I’m having them take care of some problems with the Yaungol out on the main road.” Still a little dazed, he took the jacket she handed him, padded with thick leather. He buttoned it up and hung the bow off his shoulder, clicking the belt around his waist. The plate around his legs clicked suddenly and cinched around his knee. He leaned over and adjusted the side before approaching the stables with four different colored cranes, all pecking at their feathers or preening themselves. 

“Soldier,” he spoke warily, relaxing once the two turned around and greeted him in return. Khantis slapped him on the shoulder, handing him a jerkin. 

“Admiral, it’s good to see you alive again.” He chuckled as Taylor shoved his arms through the leather, tying it up quickly. “Have you ever shot a bow?” He asked, peering over at the redwood around his shoulder. The man nodded, a little exasperated. 

“Of course I have. What trainee hasn’t?” He shot back hotly, adjusting his quiver aggressively. Khantis raised his brow bone, nodding with an ‘okay’ look on his face. Verild snickered beside him, clutching his staff. 

“Let’s get going, you two.” He hauled himself up on the overgrown crane, patting its neck feathers. Taylor and Khantis did the same, and soon they were out in the snowy plains of the Summit. He followed the two Draenei, having no clue where they were actually heading. The Pandaren woman sent him away so quickly that she gave him hardly any details of the mission. Khantis and Verild must know where they were supposed to be heading, though, and he trusted them. If they would watch his back, he would watch theirs.

“So the last hunting party was sent toward the Yaungol Advance which is northeast from here. We could try that way?” Verild asked, veering his crane to the right side of the path as he peered off in the direction he spoke of. The two followed suit and split from the path. 

There wasn’t much going on out on the main road, but Taylor felt uneasy whenever he turned his sharp gaze to the thin forest. There was something out there waiting for them, waiting for them to let their guard down. Taylor narrowed his eyes as he watched a shadowy figure in the distance struggle to move across the snow.  The small figure was being chased by a pack of larger figures, veering off into the plains in thigh-deep snow. He stopped his crane from moving forward and dropped down to the road off the side of the saddle.

“What? What do you see?” Khantis was suddenly beside him, turning his head to follow the figures. “Who is that?”

“The cloak… is that a cloak? Whatever it is, it’s of Alliance colors. Look!” He pointed to the gold that fluttered on the rims of the cloak. 

“Could it be…-?”  
“We need to help!” Verild shouted from beside him as the figure scrambled up a tall rock formation, hiding in a divot as spells, spears, and arrows were shot at him. One of the bigger yak-looking men climbed up the rock and grabbed the small human by the throat, his prey struggling and kicking as his compatriots roared in victory. Taylor nocked an arrow and pulled the bowstring taut, letting it fly as the human wiggled out of his hold with a precise kick to the jaw. The arrow sunk itself into what he presumed to be the Yaungol’s neck. It had so many muscles he had no idea where it would weaken him the most. 

The boy- he decided, the stature of his lithe frame and wiry arms were familiar, dropped back to the rock and curled up against the wall as Khantis charged, Verild dueling the other mage Yaungol. He helped take down the farther ranger fighters as Khantis took out the rest with a sweep of his blades. 

Once the small pack was finished and there was hardly a scratch on them, Taylor turned to the rock formation where the boy was huddling. He knew who it was, ragged-looking with cloth wrapped around his nearly blue feet and messy  _ still somehow nice-looking _ pale blonde hair. The Admiral growled and stood stock still, squaring his shoulders as he faced the post.

 “Anduin!” he called, voice nearing inconceivable rage, “Get down here  _ right now _ !” The boy had been nothing but a menace to the SI:7 who so desperately tried to take him home under his incessant father’s orders. Of course, under his recovery, he hadn’t heard much from the man himself- but he had a feeling that it had fluctuated in his time of absence.

The boy peered over the side of the rock and gasped. 

“You’re alive?” He jumped down, unsteady on weak, shaky legs. Khantis grimaced at his bare feet and moved to pick him up. The prince yelped suddenly and nearly tipped out of his arms, clinging to his shoulders. “What?”

“Your feet are near blue!” The Draenei exclaimed, shocked. 

“They are? Oh-”  
“Light, Anduin, you’re a mess,” Verild commented, summoning a small fire to his palms as he hovered close to the boy. He had begun to violently shiver once the adrenaline had worn off. Anduin curled up against the warrior as he was carried back to the cranes. 

“Where are you trying to go?” Khantis grumbled.

“The Temple!” he pointed forward, and Taylor turned to face a giant monastery towering as a shadow over the low valley. His brows furrowed as he turned back to the prince, sitting on the back of the still, well-trained crane. 

“Why?”

“To get access to the Vale, I must prove my worth to the White Tiger. If we can open it again, the Pandaren get part of their home back, and we discover the solution to our Sha problem! Whatever caused them to awaken- it has to be there!” Anduin spoke passionately, and it was a great feeling. But he was too young to do this on his own- to feel like he had to run from those who just wanted him to stay safe, no matter how much his father coddled him. Taylor sighed and leaned against the crane, running his hand through his hair.

“You look like an absolute wreck, Anduin, and if you think that your greasy hair and frostbitten feet will impress him I’m going to say you’re absolutely wrong.” 

“Not  _ that _ greasy,” he huffed, folding his arms as Verild warmed his feet. “I was out in the rain a lot.” Taylor hummed and stood beside him. 

“We should bring him back to Binan- he doesn’t look good,” Khantis spoke quietly beside him and Anduin and Verild conversed as the mage warmed him, his shivering dying down but still a slight chatter to his teeth. 

“There’s an inn there, the man is kind. He would let us stay- maybe we could even get the poor boy some new clothes, not sure.” Taylor chuckled and nodded, eyeing his ragged pants and pale feet. 

“If not that… maybe some shoes…” The admiral shrugged, “And gloves... Did I mention that it’s cold as balls out here?” He said quickly, shivering as he folded his arms. Khantis smiled deviously.

“I can’t feel a thing- and that’s not just the weather!” His armor was probably frozen on the outside but keeping him nice and warm on the inside. Was he just numb or something? The human raised an eyebrow and didn’t respond, opting to hop up onto the crane, causing the prince to stumble and nearly rip the poor bird’s feathers off in his panic. Anduin apologized immediately and gave the crane a gentle pat. It squawked irritatedly and bucked the child off, tossing him into the snow. Anduin curled up in the cold and stood on his bare feet, soaked again. 

“Come on, you’ll ride with me,” Verild wrapped an arm around his shoulders and spoke quietly. “I can keep you warm, little brother.” Taylor raised an eyebrow at the name and watched them. He coaxed the boy onto the back of the bird, Anduin was being a little hesitant… whether it was the fear of the mount or the fear of being taken back to his father after he’d come so far… Taylor wouldn’t know unless he asked. 

The priest lowered himself down onto the back of the saddle carefully, afraid he’d get kicked off again. Verild hopped up in front of him and the boy managed to get his arms around the Draenei without knocking anything on his belt. He pressed his cheek against the middle of his back and sighed contentedly. Taylor could see a faint glow around the mage, some kind of mild warming spell. Useful. He kicked his own crane into a slow jog as he followed. 

They were back at Binan in minutes thanks to the hardy birds that were lent to them. Commander Hsieh was waiting for them just outside the stables. She looked impressed. 

“You didn’t take as long as I was expecting!” 

“Wait wait wait-” Taylor stopped her from continuing as he handed the reins to a nearby stablehand. “You were going to wait for us until we  _ did _ or  _ didn’t _ return?” 

“If you didn’t in three hours I would have sent a search party. I would not leave you out there, dead or not!” She replied hotly as if offended. She peered over his shoulder? “A victim of the attacks?” she asked. Taylor chuckled. 

“You could say that. More like a straggler.” Anduin huffed and folded his arms. 

“I was handling it.”

“You were nearly skinned alive, Anduin.” Taylor deadpanned. The boys face flushed as he harrumphed and turned away back to his friends. Hsieh chortled and planted her hands on her hips. 

“So I assume the party was taken care of- or at least, one of them?”

“We only saw one, I think that’s good? There were no tracks of any other… uh… packs.” He worded carefully. They were still technically animals… The admiral shook his head. “We saw one harassing someone, it turned out to be the prin- the boy. It turned out to be the boy.” He corrected himself quickly, stroking his beard. She nodded with a bit of mirth in her eyes. She was different from the last time he saw her. 

“You know him?”

“Yes,” he replied automatically, surprising himself. 

“He is young,” She observes,  “you should take him to the inn! He looks absolutely exhausted.”

“We were, actually. Thanks for reminding me. If you need anything else, please let me know. The Alliance welcomes all friends. Well… most friends.” He thought briefly back to Nazgrim.

“When you finish with the boy, I’d like you and your friends to go down to Westwind and find as many as possible and desist the Yaungol invasion.” Taylor nodded. 

“I will, thank you. Light be with you, Commander.” She dipped her head in thanks as Taylor turned to follow his friends into the inn. Verild kept an arm wrapped around the prince, pulling his hood up as he swayed. He was obviously tired, hungry, sore. He looked thinner. Light, how long had it been since the boy disappeared? Four months now? How was he even faring on his own? Not very well…

Verild sat Anduin down in the far corner, Khantis going to order some food. Taylor sank down exhaustedly beside him. Despite the biting chill of the outside and the ache from his healing wounds, he felt content, if not tired. 

Anduin was still curled up between them even when Khantis brought back a plate full of dumplings and chopsticks. The boy was hesitant. Right, he hated eating in front of other people. He had a hard enough time just eating in front of his father, let alone when the nobles wanted to invite themselves over for dinner. Then again, the keep was hardly private. Anduin and Varian were troubled with the fact that anyone could come in, probably not feeling as secure as they would in a normal home. They could wake up, walk out the door and see three noblewomen gossiping in the halls already, early in the morning. It was a little rude, actually… 

“Eat it, brother. We will not bite.”

“Stop staring at me!” He huffed, tugging his knees up and planting his feet against the wood of the chair. He was hiding- well-  _ “hiding” _ . A self-defense mechanism. He’d seen many before on different people, shell-shocked soldiers, that sort of thing. Taylor sighed and busied himself with looking out the window. 

“What’s wrong with me staring at you?”

“I don’t like it when people watch me eat…” 

“It’s not like I’m judging you-”

“That’s not it!” The prince sighed and begrudgingly picked up the chopsticks, sliding between his clumsy fingers with ease as he picked up a dumpling and popped it into his mouth. He buried his nose in his knees as he chewed, an embarrassed flush coming to his cheeks. Taylor ruffled his hair fondly and shook his head, a small smile making its way to his face. 

“You’re allowed to eat, Anduin.” He mumbled so the boy could hear properly, the priest freezing at his words. He glanced over him as he swallowed and the admiral’s heart sank. He looked so  _ sad _ , a complete contrast to the slightly bubbly demeanor he had earlier- happy but wary to see them. “Go on.” Taylor felt like he was coaxing a small animal to eat a piece of kibble he’d put on the ground. It was ridiculous and a stupid thought to have, but it… it was real. This was a reality. Anduin was  _ like this _ . He felt like he needed permission to eat. It was… it was  _ infuriating _ . If he could wipe the woman out of Anduin’s mind, he would do so in a heartbeat, even if it left him confused… it would be better than remembering the torture. 

Anduin looked like he was doing his absolute best to ignore the three men around him while he ate, staring but not quite staring out of bewilderment and annoyance- more out of concern than anything. 

“Once I’m done-”

“I’m coming with you.” Khantis interrupted him. Anduin stared up from the plate, eyes wide and shocked. 

“Are… are you serious?”

“We should have come with you a long time ago, if not for anything else just to keep you safe and make you  _ eat _ you absolute twig.” Anduin hid a grin by stuffing another dumpling in his mouth. “If I knew you were defenseless-”

“I’m not  _ defenseless- _ ”

“Why do you not fight back, then? Have some sense, boy!” Verild butt in this time. “You have to Light at your beck and call-”

“I  _ don’t _ . That’s the problem… I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t use it when I actually need it. Maybe it doesn’t want me to…”

“Did this just start?”

Anduin nodded. “Just after I landed here.” 

“So this whole time,” Khantis pushed his hands out, “the Light has just left you hanging on a cliff with no help.” Anduin sighed and peered up at him meekly. He almost looked pained. 

“I guess? I want to talk with mas-Velen about it when this is over.”

“What if we could get you a bow? There’s a forge here- oh, and some shoes.” Anduin giggled at that.  
“I ruined mine way back in the Jade Forest… you won’t believe how many thorns I’ve stepped on. I didn’t bring spare boots in my satchel.” He rubbed his feet while grimacing. Taylor looked down and noticed dark scabs with a red hue around it. “I’d heal them, but it’s not really worth it.”

“They might be infected, Anduin!” Taylor poked the arch in his foot. Anduin jerked away and tucked his feet against the wood. 

“Not with any poisons or anything- just not that clean, but they should be fine.”

“Anduin-” he began.

“Who’s the one studying medicine?”

“I’ve been a soldier for nearly twenty years!” 

“So you study medicine?”

“Well- no,”

“Then shh.” He elbowed his arm playfully as he set his chopsticks on the empty plate. 

“What boot size are you?” Khantis abruptly changed the topic. Anduin looked down at his feet. They were still small. Anduin hadn’t grown much over the past few years of his young adulthood. 

“Not a medium…” 

“So children’s boots-”

“No!” 

Verild laughed heartily at the two and slapped the boy on the back. 

“If you want to go now, meet me by the stables in twenty minutes.” The Draenei said seriously, standing from the table. Anduin nodded. They watched him leave before Anduin stood, stretching his arms above his head. 

“I’m gonna go see which bird doesn’t have a problem with me,” He gave them a cheerful smile, obviously trying to cover up the awkwardness from before, when he’d made a fuss about eating. 

After a few minutes, Taylor stood up. He looked over to the mage and smiled. 

“I’ll go make sure he doesn’t get pecked to death.” Verild laughed.

“Then I’ll go and make sure my brother doesn’t get him plate.” 

“Fair deal, it seems.” 

* * *

_ "Anduin!” The boy whipped his head over from his seat, seeing his father attempting to get his attention right next to him.  _

_ “Good book?” He laughed, causing the boy to flush.  _

_ “Sorry…  Jaina found a book she thought I’d like, I haven’t put it down since this morning.”  _

_ “How can you just sit here and read? And how did she know today was your birthday?” Varian sank down into the seat beside him and draped an arm around the back of Anduin’s chair. The boy leaned back against it and folded a piece of cloth to his page, closing the book. _

_ “Wasn’t she here the day I was born, father?” He asked sarcastically. The king chuckled and cuffed his ear playfully. The prince flinched away from his hand and huddled over his book, guarding it like a dog. “What do you want, anyways? I was on an interesting page!” He huffed, making his father peer over his shoulder curiously, a devious smirk on his face. _

_ “Interesting, huh? Did Jaina give you a romance novel?” _

_ “No!” The prince squeaked, the Librarians looking over in surprise. Anduin grinned sheepishly as an apology and they turned back to their work. “No. It’s just a historical tome on the Clerics of Northshire.” _

_ “Right, they finished re-building the abbey long before you were born. Marshal McBride still watches over the place, I think he cares too much. I relieved him of duty two years ago, but the old stout is still going strong with the recruits down there.”  _

_ “I haven’t seen him in the keep in ages. He must be busy…” Anduin sighed, turning back to the closed book. “I was on Alonsus Faol’s biography, he was the abbot of the Northshire Abbey, apparently. He was also one of the master clerics… wasn’t he?” Anduin peered back onto the page. “Oh.. wait he left just before Stormwind was sacked… Huh.” He closed the book on the cloth again and turned to his father. “What was it that you needed?” _

_ “I haven’t said anything yet,” an amused smirk marred his face and Anduin glared. He sat straight and leaned forward, pressing his sharp chin into his father’s shoulder. The king laughed and wrapped an arm around his back. “I have a surprise for you, son. Come with me.” Anduin nodded and followed, tucking his book under his arm.  _

_ “Any hints?” _

_ “That would ruin the surprise.” Varian chuckled, passing through the throne room quickly. The royal stables weren’t far from the keep, so Anduin would probably guess the further they got. The boy was already looking up at him with a small smile on his face as they turned toward the stables.  _

_ “Oh wait, let me guess, you got me a donkey.” _

_ “Yes, exactly! Great mind you have, son.” He barked a laugh and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, nodding to the stablehand as they passed through.  _

_ “Last stable to the right.” Varian pushed him forward and dug his thumbs into his belt. Anduin gave him a curious look and raised an eyebrow before he wandered forward. He peered around into the stall and jumped back, almost startling the horse. Varian rushed forward and took his shoulders.  _

_ “You can’t be scared of him- all animals can smell fear. He’s friendly, just let him get used to you.”  _

_ “He’s… he’s huge!” Anduin pushed back into his father, though Varian wanted him to move forward. The king chuckled.  _

_ “Yes, he’s one of those draft horses.”  _

_ “Why did you get me a draft horse?!” Anduin yelped and flinched back as the large animal moved forward to sniff at him, hitting his head against his father’s chest plate. _

_ “He was described as the nicest one, the others were pretty rude.. And ornery. I figured he would be fine if you got used to him!” Varian smoothed the boy’s bangs out of his face as the horse moved his neck out to sniff him again. Varian moved to the side and kept a comforting hand on his shoulder.  _

_ “Here, I’ll let him out-” _

_ “Don’t let him out!” _

_ “And he’ll get to know you, okay?” _

_ Anduin moved backwards quite a ways as the stable door was opened, and the king could tell the boy felt cornered. He was flighty and had shifted to the balls of his feet, leaning all of his slight weight forward in case he needed to run.  _

_ The large Clydesdale moved out of his stall and sniffed at Varian’s ear, the human waving him away as he stared over at his son, who was looking more fearful by the minute. He wasn’t saying anything, his breathing was quiet, but he was staring the horse down like an enemy- Varian wasn’t going to lie, he was worried. Anduin’s anxiety could set off the horse- he didn’t want the thing to trample his son.  _

_ Anduin put his hand up slowly as the horse approached him, nostrils fluttering as it pressed against the palm of his hand.  Anduin had the faintest terrified smile on his face as the horse pressed closer like an affectionate dog, nuzzling its nose right into the crook of his neck. His whole head was almost as big as Anduin, nearly reaching his ankles. The boy patted his cheek softly, the look in his eyes wanting the horse to move so Anduin wasn’t backed against a wall facing down a draft horse that was as big as a siege tank.  _

_ “So,” Varian slapped the side of the horse’s neck firmly. “What’s his name?” He smiled and pulled his son close to his side, his small hands reaching up to part a few stray hairs from the horse’s eyes.  _

_ As Anduin stared up at it without fear, he smiled gently and stroked its muzzle again.  _

_ “Reverence.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's so short, literally took me like... two months to write this fucking chapter because I'm hardly motivated and have writers block... sorry. The flashback was planned, though, so it's not supposed to be random. I'm sorry if it seems like it. I don't think I'm that good at this anymore.


	13. The Temple of the White Tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Anduin gets to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Are you sure this is wise?”

“Calm down, Khan’, they won’t attack us on sight if we’re not aggressive.” Anduin waved him off, letting the crane go into the stables off to the right with the other mounts. He moved down the path, the Draenei jogging to catch up with him. The gate to the temple was grand, but not welcoming. The place was cold, almost desolate in feeling, and Anduin almost dreaded walking in. Almost. 

“Anduin, wait.” A hand on his shoulder made him stop and turn. 

“What is it? Are you alright?” He asked quickly, not enjoying the continuous foreboding feeling coming from the temple. 

“Listen…” Khantis started awkwardly, “I’m sorry, about before. I didn’t… I didn’t want to yell at you just to yell.”

“Khantis, it’s okay.” A small smile graced his lips, and the Draenei grimaced.

“It’s not, and I still believe I shouldn’t have. If you had died that day… if you had died _any day_ , knowing I could have stopped it-”

“I’m not dead,” Anduin took his biceps and shook him lightly. “Saying what you did… I won’t deny that I was… hurt.” He said vaguely, “But I understand why you did. You don’t need to fear for my safety, I can take care of myself.” 

“You shouldn’t have to, little brother.”

“Just because I shouldn’t have to doesn’t mean I can’t.” Anduin stepped away, giving his arms one last squeeze that he could hardly feel through the armor. “Now let’s head inside, yeah? It’s freezing out here.” He shivered, wrapping his ragged cloak tightly around himself. Khantis sighed, dropping the topic. He instead moved his gaze to the bow on his back and quiver strapped to his hip. 

“Have you tried the bow yet?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure I won’t be _that_ rusty.” 

“Anduin… you haven’t used one in almost a year.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine!” The prince laughed, patting the quiver. “Bolvar used to call me a ‘master-in-training’, you know.” Khantis hummed. 

“Well, I’m watching your back, so you’ll be fine.”

Anduin chuckled and rolled his eyes as they passed under the gates. The doors to the temple were tall and wooden, heavy-looking. Anduin approached them and pushed on the wood. It wasn’t locked, but the doors were heavy and he wouldn’t be able to push through them on his own. He looked back at the warrior and gestured to the door with his head. He braced his shoulder against it, steel feeling the resistance in his sore shoulders. The hinges were probably frozen as well. Khantis braced the other side with his shoulder, and they began to push.

He didn’t have any other means of opening the temple to them, so this would have to work. The prince dug his leather boots down and leaned all of his weight into the door, squishing his shoulder against it in a desperate attempt to get the frozen wooden door to budge. Anduin grit his teeth as the door began to budge, and with one final push from Khantis, it gave way. 

Anduin nearly fell through the door, but reached over to grasp his friends’ arm before he could touch the icy wet ground. Khantis chortled as Anduin regained his footing, patting his back gently. The priest coughed and glared at him, shoving his arm back into the warm confines of his cloak and approaching the second set of doors, occupied by two Pandaren monks. 

“What is your business, friend?” The monk asked, dipping his head to the two. 

“We seek an audience with the Celestial Xuen,” Khantis spoke for him, noticing the boys’ sudden uneasiness to speak. _Teenagers_ . Khantis laughed inwardly. _So awkward._  

“Ah… you are not the first, my friends. This way.” He and his compatriot pushed the second set of heavy wooden doors open with ease, causing Anduin to flush. Was he _that_ weak? He shook his head of the thought and pressed forward, gripping the side of the stitched quiver to ease his mind. Why was he so awkward all of a sudden? He usually had no problem talking to strangers- he met them all the time back in Stormwind! Anduin sighed, attempting to regain his composure as they opened the second set of doors leading to a large chamber, where three individuals stood on either side of a large black and white tiger. 

Two male Pandaren and a male Tauren stand by the tiger, and all look toward Khantis and Anduin as the monks shut the door. Cautiously, Anduin stuck close to his friend as they stopped a short distance away from the Celestial. Xuen looks exactly like his friend- Whiskers. He looked exactly like Whiskers. Was that a coincidence? Was he wrong to think that Whiskers was a disciple of this creature? He hadn’t seen many black-and-white tigers lying around the temple. Anduin looked around the room carefully, eyes landing back on to the others. 

“Ah, more strangers from beyond our mists.” His voice was ethereal, echoed in the small chamber. Anduin wasn’t expecting it. The Pandaren on the right looked close to the guards he’d seen, that Commander that had approached him in Stoneplow. 

“Soon they will overwhelm this continent. Where do we draw the line?!” The man sounded in outrage, clearly unhappy for both he, Khantis, and the Tauren’s presence. Anduin’s brow furrowed. What had happened to be so terrible? Was it that Sha demon ooze he’d heard so much about? He’d only seen two types- the demons that erupted once the feelings of despair or doubt had gotten too high. The one at Serpent’s Heart was the biggest he’d seen, and the most terrifying. Taylor and Nazgrim had nearly died- he couldn’t say much for the soldiers that had been pitted against each other. 

Finding his courage, Anduin spoke up shakily. 

“We’re here to lend our aid- to help rebuild the Vale.” 

“We have witnessed your _help_ ,” He spat with such venom it had Anduin almost reeling from shock. “In the Jade Forest. This _Horde_ and _Alliance_ of yours- you have no control in your nature. You all leave misery in your wake!” He roared, Xuen even looking at him with calm disappointment. 

“Ten thousand years ago,” he began softly, “the last Pandaren Emperor came seeking my advice. He, too, was filled with conflict. Let us see if you are correct, Taran, let us see how this boy deals with the turmoils of the soul.” 

A force against gravity tugged at Anduin, forcing him to the base of the chamber and moving Khantis out of the way, tucking him beside the Tauren. A form began to take place in front of him, and the prince shoved himself off of his knees, reflex taking over as he took his bow in hand and nocked an arrow. 

His heartbeat began to pick up as the form finished morphing, a large figure- much larger than himself. Anduin nearly dropped the bow in his shaky hands. He clenched his jaw shut. 

“Violence… see they are filled with it! Though… I... I was not expecting this.” Taran spoke up from his corner of the room as Anduin swallowed through his dry mouth. He formed what vaguely sounded like letters, but got a hold of himself. 

“Yes, we are fighters…” He flashed briefly back to his father’s gladiatorial days… the very Crimson Ring Champion standing in front of him with the angriest look on his face. Finding his voice once more, Anduin took a deep breath. “We come from a violent land… We’ve fought off death and demons, the end of the world itself!” 

“It is true,” Another unfamiliar voice joined them, the second Pandaren man in green robes. “They are strong, and have much to teach us.” 

Anduin gulped, the wild side of his father staring him down. He seemed almost… statue-like…

Except for the part where he charged his son. Anduin rolled out of the way as his blades nearly swept his head off. In a moment of fear and impulse, he let the arrow fly into his father’s chest, the man not even giving it a second glance as he leaped for him again. 

Everything was like a torrent, his blade as blurry as the speed he twirled it as his son countered with an arrow. 

Three embedded into his torso, one in his leg. Lo’gosh wasn’t looking so good, and Anduin knew he was close to winning. _He’s just a spirit… he’ll fade once you kill him_ … As Lo’gosh knelt down in exhaustion, Anduin let the arrow fly. He looked away as the sound of jingling chimes echoed throughout the chambers. His eyes squeezed shut, Anduin dared to look forward. 

There was nothing. 

The prince panted and wrapped a hand around his bloody arm. Lo’gosh had gotten a few slices on him, but luckily Anduin was still nimble enough to move out of every thrust of his sword. 

“We can agree it is noble to fight for a righteous cause: to defend home or family. But what of vengeance? What of anger? I sense these emotions run deep in this one.” Xuen spoke again, and Anduin was drawn back to where he started. The prince blinked, dazed as another spirit began to take form. Expectantly- it was the form of himself. His eyes were blank but livid, posture tense with hands on the twin bow.

Anduin retrieved another arrow from the quiver- he was running out. It would be only a matter of time before he’d be reduced to either hand-to-dagger combat or just the Light. _Wait, do I even still have my dagger?_ The priest shook his head and focused on the enemy. 

“Anger is a part of us all, yes. But we value control. The orcs were once driven solely by anger - they lived in a state of bloodlust - but they conquered it.” Anduin replied to the tiger after a few moments of silence. 

“All you seek to conquer is each other!” Taran argued, the rage on his face quite obvious. Anduin sighed and shook his head as his other self began to fire at him. He could still hear bits and pieces of the conversation behind him as he rounded closer to the spirit. Anduin flipped his bow and used the momentum to throw his target over, disorienting him. He reached back for the dagger he always kept and threw it directly at his spirit’s head, the form dissipating on impact. Anduin walked over and picked up the dagger, sheathing it on his belt again. 

“To live without anger is to not live at all. It is ours to overcome. In defeating our anger, we draw great strength.” The Pandaren next to Taran spoke again, openly defying his thoughts. Taran looked livid as Anduin was pulled back to the edge of the circle carved into the floor. The prince inhaled deeply. He was exhausted. 

“Well spoken, Zhi,” _Was that his name?_ “The strangers from beyond the mists have no shortage of passions, but let us see if they indeed control them. Beyond anger lies hatred, the wellspring of all misery,” Another spirit began to shape and morph like rubber from the ground up,  “what is this? Your hatred has a face!”

The form was somewhat feminine, but her features were clear. A wicked grin split across her face as she used her magic to turn herself into her true form-

Onyxia the Black Dragon, brood mother to her flight. 

“That…” Anduin swallowed, his hands trembling violently, “that can’t be…” _She’s dead. She’s dead, and you have to kill her. She’s just a spirit. You can do this, Anduin_. 

“See? See how these outsiders hate one another, even themselves! They wear their hatred to battle and carry it to their graves!” Taran shouted over her low growl. She didn’t take up the whole room- merely scaled-down but tall enough to be intimidating. Anduin exhaled shakily and nearly dropped his bow. He didn’t have any arrows left, anyways. 

“No… no, that’s not true!” He stared straight at Taran- but his face gave away his true feelings- he was _terrified_. 

Anduin shielded himself in Light and ducked away before Onyxia’s claw came crashing down. He unsheathed his dagger once more- but it would do _nothing_ against the dragon. 

“Anduin!” He turned swiftly, just in time to catch the sword coming his way. It was by no means light, but it wasn’t heavy enough so he couldn’t lift it. Anduin used the weight of the sword to slash at her leg, ripping through spiritual tendons. She howled and collapsed under the force of the swing. 

The prince moved around to her face and drove the sword through her neck, the spirit fading away with the wind. The sword hung limp in his numb, shaky hands, and the prince struggled to heft it up long enough to give it back to his companion. A heavy hand settled on his shoulder as he was tugged into his side. 

“Interesting… they bring much to our land, but they also bring the shadows of war.”

_Does that mean they’re unconvinced?_

“Peace will come,” he began, “I swear it. And old hatreds will go away. You have to believe me.” He said breathlessly as he stumbled away from Khantis, holding his wounds. 

“Well, this one has indeed proven mastery over turmoil. Between the young cub's words and actions, I think I understand. Those from beyond the mists are hardened by battle. They are scarred, yes, but they have learned much. I trust them.” Taran threw his hands down in frustration at his words, shaking his head, seething with unspoken words. 

“You are making a _terrible_ mistake!” He ground out and turned to leave quickly. Anduin didn’t watch him go but flinched as the door slammed shut. 

“It is decided,” Xuen’s voice once again boomed from the silence. “The Vale of Eternal Blossoms shall remain open. The transgressions of the outsiders have been great... but I see in them the capability to right what has been wronged.” Anduin let a small, giddy smile break through his serious mask. He fell into a kneel and stared at the floor.

Anduin lifted his head, eyes sparkling. 

“Thank you, Master White Tiger. You will see. I believe that my people - and the Horde - are essentially good.”

“I will consult the others. Meet us at the gates.” Xuen stepped over them with his massive paws, and then simply vanished. Anduin took Khantis’ offered hand and stood, leaning into his side. He heard a deep chuckle resonate through the chamber. 

“I find your faith-inspiring, little one,” He almost sounded like Baine. “But I wonder if you have ever met our Warchief?”

Anduin had never met Garrosh, no, but he had met Thrall briefly at a meet in Theramore. He hadn’t ever talked to the man one-on-one, but he’d known enough for a judge of character.

Garrosh, however, seemed to be nothing but a warmongering tyrant that grasped for the deepest reaches of power in a cesspool of evil. Anduin could accept the bout of honor he praised- the true Horde- he never doubted that Garrosh wanted the best for his people… but he did it in the wrong way. _Was_ doing it the wrong way. He continues to send his people to die, threatens those he needs to exploit resources. Anduin wasn’t looking forward to meeting him, but on another level he wanted to have a conversation with the orc, to understand why he was the way he was. 

Anduin started as his shoulder was shaken, catching himself staring at the floor again. 

“Anduin, um..” 

“What? I’m sorry, Khantis. What is it?”

“There’s… there’s another, uh, another tiger.” 

Anduin whipped his head around and peered at the door. There was, in fact, a large tiger blocking the exit. But it had familiar eyes and a familiar beard. Anduin knelt to the floor as his smile spread wide. 

“Hey, buddy!” The tigers’ ears perked up as it ran into the room. Whiskers crashed to the floor and pressed his muzzle into Anduin’s chest, pawing at his folded legs. His wide, flat tongue began to lick under Anduin’s chin, and the prince laughed as he wrapped his arms around the tiger's neck. 

“I’m glad you’re alive!” He scratched at his furry cheeks, pressing his thumbs under his ears and rubbing. The feline began to purr and sat back on his haunches. His tail wagged like a dog, fangs showing from his puffed cheeks. 

“So… would you like to introduce me?” 

“Uhh- I named him Whiskers- don’t laugh! I don’t know his name!” 

“Mini-Xuen?” 

“...maybe.” Anduin looked away and raised his eyebrows. “I think Whiskers suits him better.”

“He’s not a pet! He’s a formation of an animal deity!” 

Anduin pouted and hugged Whisker’s neck again, glaring up at him. 

“He’s my friend.” 

Khantis rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Friend or not, he’s your ride to the gates. That crane was one more ride away from throwing you off the mountain.”

“I didn’t do anything to him! He’s a mean bird.” 

“A grumpy bird that doesn’t like fidgety princes. Now come on, we’ve got to meet everyone else by the gates.” 

“Does that mean I’m following you?”

“Duh.” 

* * *

Anduin tried not to pull too hard on Whisker’s fur, but at the speed he was going, how could he not out of reflexive terror? They were bowling down a mountain. He was too excited! Anduin hid his face into his neck to shield himself from the onslaught of snow. He squeezed his eyes shut, melted snow falling down his face like tears. 

The gates to the vale were large, just as intimidating as the temple. Though it was nestled in the direct sunlight on the rolling plains bordering the Valley of the Four Winds, it still brought a sense of darkness hiding behind it. Anduin peeked up from Whisker’s scruff and gaped. 

Two towers stood on either side- the middle, the gate bordered by the walls of the Serpent’s Spine. The grand wall- circled by mountains before it returned to stonework, wrapped around the most western parts of the continent, separating each county from the Dread Wastes where those bug-men, Klaxxi, reside. Anduin spared one last look to the gate before he returned his gaze to the wisps of Whisker’s fur. 

They slow toward the entrance, Whiskers moving them off to the side as Anduin, wrapped up in excitement, swings off the back of the tiger in favor of looking at all of the other celestials. He didn't have much of a chance to meet them all in his travels, but the prince suspected that it was more than just him that did the work of convincing them to come together and re-open the vale for their people, and even from those beyond the mists. 

He mindlessly pet Whisker’s head as they Celestials began to gather, a large green jade-like serpent, a hulking yak, Chi-Ji, and then Xuen himself. He knelt down in the grass, staring up at them with wonder he hadn’t felt since he arrived on Pandaria. 

“Children of Pandaria,” The serpent spoke, her voice soft but hard-edged and echoed. “The mists have fallen, for good or for ill- our land is open to all.” 

Xuen stepped forward and lean on his haunches, thrusting himself forward into an ear-deafening roar. Anduin clung to the side of Whisker’s neck as the ferocity swept through his body. It felt like thunder and lightning intensified all at one. Soon it died down, the sound of gears shifting and clicking instead taking place. 

He idly felt Whisker’s flat tongue flicking at his neck, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of what lay before him. 

“Let us draw ourselves together to rebuild this sacred place, the first step toward healing a war-torn world.” The serpent said again,  her snout rising as she floated softly above the ground. 

“These outsiders have brought chaos to this land. Can we trust them to set it right?” The yak asked, turning to his compatriots.

“I have faith in our friends from beyond the mists,” Chi-Ji spoke with his head held high. 

“Their strength is an inspiration... and sorely needed. We must trust that their hearts are pure.” Xuen murmured, departing from his fellow celestials. The others follow suit. Anduin looked back over at Khantis, a slight grin on his face. 

“Shall we?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a while before the next chapter comes out, my outline ends at 14 and I need to get ahead again just for an outline.
> 
> Also my right hand is really shaky right now, and It feels fatigued and like.. almost numb? I don't know what it is but it's bothering me. I can barely type. I don't drink caffine, so...????? And I run Cross Country... eeee it's making me nervous. I'm gonna ask my teacher lol.


	14. Vale of Bloomed Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin takes refuge in the Shrine of Seven Stars.

Anduin stared up at the gates as he idly ran his hand down Whiskers’ back. Along with other refugees, he traveled into the Vale. His gaze turned to the flowing mountains, astride a long river that stretched into a lake. Anduin simpered at the scenery, so calm and peaceful. Nothing like the rabid jungles that held Hozen and bugs too big for his liking with branches and upturned roots with too many thorns stuck in his feet, Anduin shuddered…  _ I never want to pick thorns out of me again… _

“Anduin.” 

The prince nearly jumped a foot in the air as he was called, turning to furrow at his companion. 

“What?” 

“You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you heal yourself earlier?” Anduin looked down at himself, a few scrapes on his arms, a stinging cut on his cheek. He hadn’t felt the pain before, but it began to seep between his joints. Anduin hissed and willed the Light to his body. In no time, he was feeling as good as new. Anduin clenched his fists and rolled his shoulders. He didn’t feel so stiff anymore! At least the Light was with him then… Gods, sometimes it felt like he was the weakest bug on the planet… and other days he felt as if he could strike down a titan. 

Khantis ruffled his hair and pulled his bangs back as Anduin grinned up at him. 

“Sorry,” He laughed, “I forgot about those!” playfully swatting Khantis’ hand away, he turned to follow the refugees into the vale. 

“No doubt the Horde should be here… look! They’re heading toward that temple.” The warrior glanced out in the distance toward a large palace, where the Horde were staking their banners. Anduin frowned. 

“This isn’t their territory… they shouldn’t be claiming the palace like that!” Anduin groaned, looking toward the building opposite of that. “We shouldn’t go near them… just to be safe…” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered as he thought of Nazgrim… and… those two farmers. The prince squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, catching up to Whiskers and scratching his scruff in an attempt to take his mind off of the Horde. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Anduin sighed and shook his head, returning his gaze to the palace ahead of them. Khantis looked as if he wanted to speak up again, but ultimately dropped the subject and stuck close by his side, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

Anduin was just slightly paranoid, shoving the hood of his cloak up when they began passing Horde soldiers. It wasn’t like he was afraid of the Horde as a whole… just their people… some of them. Anduin frowned and turned his gaze to his feet as an undead growled at Khantis, the warrior returning the scowl with his own. He’d lived in an aura of animosity at most points of his life, whether it be by those around him or even… even himself. Anger, betrayal, they weren’t anything new, well.. He’d  _ heard _ of betrayal- he’d never experienced it himself. He hoped he never would, but that was naive, even for him. 

Anduin stopped just beside the palace front just as his cloak was tugged. He glanced down at Whiskers and knelt in front of him, a sad look causing his fuzzy beard to droop sadly. He scratched at his cheeks and almost frowned, but replaced it with a smile. He understood. His hypothesis wasn’t wrong. He was the disciple of a celestial, and he had other duties to attend to. Anduin kissed his forehead.

“I’ll see you around, okay buddy?” The tiger crooned and licked his cheek with his rough tongue. The priest grinned and rubbed his ear for a final time- he hoped, not forever. The tiger began to run the opposite direction and disappeared in a shroud of mist. Anduin fidgeted his hands together as he stared in the blank direction his friend had gone. If he’d be okay, tending to the warriors… As far as Anduin saw, Whiskers was the only disciple Xuen had. He wondered if they were all in the forest, while one stood by their leader? He hadn’t seen many tigers in his travels, mainly because there was too much going on around him to truly focus on small things. He was rarely attacked- maybe they sensed that he was on some sort of spiritual mission.

As for the pools… they were in the Vale, right there- you could walk over them,  _ feel _ their power as you traveled the walkways that surrounded them. Almost as if they were boiling, bubbling up from the water’s surface and leaving nothing behind but a fresh scent of dew and pollinating lotus petals. But no petals resided in the pools but a few blossoms and brave lily pads. He wanted to stay and study them. But something within him told the priest that now was not the time. He had more things to do- to accomplish. 

Khantis took his arm again and led him away without a word. He didn’t feel the need to say anything, nothing he did would have any weight, anyways. Anduin had already decided. 

The palace was grand- the Shrine of the Seven Stars, he overheard a few refugees speaking. Many were injured- the Mantid, the Yaungol, the Sha. All had taken a heavy toll on Pandaria, an uproar, so to speak, since the Horde and the Alliance had banked on their shores.

He could only feel guilty- none of this would have happened if they’d never been engaged by the Horde’s fleet, if he’d caught the traitor earlier. Garrosh wouldn’t have been so pressed to paint this new continent with the colors of the Horde if he just hadn’t been so stupid. If he’d never gone missing on an uncharted isle, then the Pandaren would be okay. They’d be safe and sound hidden in the mists away from a world that only wanted to take and spew out the remains of something once good. 

Anduin leaned against the railing and stared out at the horizon, just watching, waiting. He felt calloused fingers card through his hair again and sighed. 

“Taylor will be expecting you back in Kun-lai,” He turned his head a quarter and smiled at him softly. “Tell them that I’m okay?” The warrior chuckled and tucked his messy bangs behind his ear, pushing his cheekbone with his knuckle to make him look back out at the sun starting to set low in the sky. 

“I will, don’t worry.” The prince frowned.

“Wait!” Anduin turned frantically and reached for him. He felt his arms enclosed around a thick metal belt and a surprised, soft breath above him. He clung to the Draenei in a moment of weakness, squeezing him tightly before letting go. He didn’t give him a chance to hug back before he pulled away, almost shocked at himself. It was an impulsive move… not like he  _ hadn’t _ hugged him before- it was just… it was just unexpected. There was a pregnant pause before another soft tug at the ends of his messy, slightly greasy hair.

He didn’t watch him leave- didn’t think he could, just let him go. He knew that he’d see him later, maybe even tomorrow. But it still hurt to watch people leave for some reason. Some empty feeling in his chest that made his head hollow and his heart sad. It made him choke up, like he was going to cry- and he nearly would. Every time his father left when he had the chance to say goodnight… it was hard for Anduin for… some inexplicable reason. He had one thought, but he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was nearly a man, and his issues had to be dealt within himself. He couldn’t cry to Bolvar- he was  _ dead _ . He couldn’t cry to his father, Genn, Velen, any of them- not even Jaina. That wasn’t their job. 

Anduin squeezed his eyes shut and pushed painful memories away from the forefront of his mind. He shook his head and stepped away from the railing, Khantis was long gone- and he had to focus. He came here for a reason, he came to help. To heal the hurt and fix the broken. That was his job and he could  _ finally _ do it. 

The prince turned and walked into the Shrine, peering around as Pandaren weaved in and out, moving crates and cleaning shelves- it was just behind the gates. Anduin smiled and stepped in fully. He moved to pick up a crate, slightly heavy, full of clear mason jars full of different colored powders. 

“Those go just downstairs inside, please! Vi Vinh is looking for her Inn supplies.” Anduin nodded to a Pandaren woman and exited through the right gate leading to grand marble stairs. Down on the lower level, a dusty, rustic hanging sign was jutting from the ceiling. It read, ‘the Golden Lantern’ in choppy metal letters. Anduin tilted his head and moved into the Inn, squeezing by a few working Pandaren and hefted the wooden crate onto the bar. He flinched as the wood pinched his fingers under the heavy crate, folding them close to his chest and glaring down at the box of spices. 

Anduin turned away and jumped, a man standing behind him. He peered behind his arm- the man was tall, with long golden hair wrapped in a messy ponytail. He looked to be a tired scholar, with a long staff strapped to his back. Anduin fiddled with his fingers as the man stared down at him with intent. 

“Ah… hello, stranger?” 

“Your father has been dead set on finding you.” His voice was gravelly, almost a hint of a Gilnean accent underneath it- but he was unmistakably human. Anduin’s shoulders slumped at his words. So… his father  _ hadn’t _ stopped looking for him. He still was, but it was under wraps.

“Are you here to try and take me back?” He asked, his foul mood increasing. He leaned back on his foot in case the man tried to snatch him away. 

“No, that’s not my job. But this Shrine has been claimed by the Alliance-”

“This Shrine doesn’t belong to anybody but the Pandaren!” 

“-Representatives of Stormwind and the rest of her allies. We have just a couple dozen more emissaries on the way, there are injured upstairs on the Emperor’s Step,” He raised an eyebrow at the prince’s ragged form, taking it in. “As a priest, I assume you know your duty.” Anduin huffed through his nose to calm himself, shutting his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. Walking forward and brushing past him.

“And prince,” Anduin turned slightly, clutching his cloak to his chest. “Do make sure you return to your father. He grows more restless by the day.” A sudden pang of fear shot through him. Was he hysterical? Borderline tyrannical? Anduin folded his arms around himself as he padded up the stairs. If his father was out of control and he didn’t know about it… Light, he should have been back ages ago! 

He walked back into the palace and arrived at the main entrance to the Shrine. Many injured were being carted in, some fatal, most just injured. He saw a plethora of amateur healers- using mainly salves and bandages. Anduin stepped forward and let the Light flow through him, kneeling next to an elderly Pandaren and shuffling next to the medic, placing one pale hand against his forehead and the other against his chest. A faint heartbeat was there, pulsing softly against his palm. Once the wound closed, he moved on to the next one. 

Anduin continued to mumble short prayers under his breath, any spell he knew to make them well- one that affected multiple people would strain his mana and his energy. He knew he could only do one at a time if he were to help them all. 

When he moved on to the ninth one- he was starting to get tired. His hands were shaky, legs trembling trying to hold his body weight. Anduin felt hunger rise in his stomach as it grumbled. The prince flushed and pushed the feeling away, continuing to heal the man below him. 

“Anduin!”

The prince whipped around at his name being called- a familiar face- though not unlike similarity with the other Pandaren, Nadaya and her brother, Alanhang. Anduin beamed as he finished healing the man, pushing himself up onto his weak legs as he rushed to greet his friends. Nadaya reached out to hold him up and gave him a nice-to-see-you-alive smile, pulling him close and squeezing him none too gently. He felt a paw at his back, patting him tenderly, and he lifted his head from her shoulder to look at Alanhang. 

“Come to see the Vale?” Anduin asked.

“Yes, and to see you- Alan knew you’d be here somewhere, though, not with those Horde ruffians. They’ve been causing us trouble!” Nadaya chuckled and let him go, the prince veering past them to the terrace outside. There were more refugees in need of assistance- Anduin gestured for them to follow along as he knelt next to the sickly refugee. Bags drooped under her eyes, an infected wound wrapped around her arm. Anduin pressed his fingertips against the bandage- as soft as he could without hurting her- and brought the Light forward. It seeped into her would and closed it, the stains on the bandage drying quickly. She grinned up at him and clasped his hand over her own, dipping her head. 

“Anduin, you are shaking.” Alan pointed out from beside him as they moved on, preventing him from moving as he grasped his shoulders. 

“Oh, that? I’m just running low on energy, that’s all.” The prince smiled warmly at his concern, but stepped aside to move past him. Alan stopped him again, though, and pushed him over to lean on the stone railing.

“You are hungry? Nadaya asked, twisting her torso to reach into her bag. She pulled out a small dish and opened it. “Here, have one!” A small, white powdery dumpling was dropped into his hand. It was no bigger than his palm, but had a sugary smell to it. Anduin chuckled and bit into it- tasting strawberries and soft, solid white chocolate.

“Did you make these, or did Sika?” He asked as he scarfed the rest of it down. Nadaya set the dish on the wide railing as Anduin took another one without thinking. He was  _ starving _ . The other healer chuckled and nodded. 

“Sika did, I can’t cook to save my life.” Anduin finished his second one in a few bites and wrapped his arms around his stomach. “You look skinnier than I remember. Have you been eating?”

“Obviously not, by the way, he vacuumed a few dumplings down.” Alanhang hadn’t spoken much- not as much as he usually did. Had something happened? The prince wondered briefly, hopping off of the railing onto his shaky legs. 

“Anduin- if you want more, you can have-”

“No, it’s okay! I think that’s enough to help me heal the rest. It’s less than a dozen, I believe.” Despite how hungry he felt- he knew that his stomach had shrunk significantly, so he didn’t need to eat a lot to sustain energy at the moment. It was useful, but it felt terrible. 

Nadaya helped in increments along the way, she was still magically drained from the constant work upholding the practical ruins of the Temple. Cleaning up Sha was dangerous work, he’d heard, and at the very moment, he wished he could go back and help them… but… 

“So,” Alanhang started after a long few hours of nothing but hushed words between patient and priest. “When will you return to your father?” Anduin sighed, nearly rolling his eyes. He’d already thought about it. He didn’t want to think about it again. 

“I will, in due time. I just… I fear for his reaction,” Anduin sulked, sitting down in the grass at the base of the temple. “I’ve been away for so long… he must be furious with me.” He folded his arms across his stomach and let the sun sink into his skin. 

“But the longer you linger, the worse he will be, is that not it?” Nadaya crouched next to him and offered him another dumpling. He took it with a smile and nibbled at the dough. Anduin shook his head and leaned it against the side of his hand. 

“I wish to be able to come and go as I please without having to fight with him about my safety, or if I will come back. He doesn’t trust me. He’ll lock me in the dungeons to keep me in Stormwind if he had to.” Anduin felt the bitterness on his tongue, but Alanhang thumped down beside him and offered his shoulder. The priest leaned on the pillow-like panda and drew his knees to his chest. 

“Do you know the story of our last great Emperor, Shaohao?” He asked suddenly, dropping the topic of his father. Anduin shook his head and yawned. He was exhausted… “There was a long time ago, when we Pandaren hadn’t been enlightened- our Emperor panicked at the thought of demons raining down into our lands, and they nearly did…” He took a deep breath. “I was but a young man then, I remembered the foul scent of that green goop raining down into our forests-”

“But all of a sudden- through all of his trials, facing Yulon to find his answers in the land… it lead him to give his final breath, the very mists that parted when you arrived here. His last exhale spread across our valleys and mountains and outward onto the oceans, it moved our island to relocate in the middle of nowhere. He did this so we would have time to learn and become enlightened as he did, to find the path to peace- to find  _ what _ we fight for. We fight for family, and for home.” Anduin let his eyes close as he dropped his head into his hands. Alanhang chuckled and nudged his shoulder. 

“I… I will return to Father, in three days' time.” He mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth. “How he will react…” Anduin frowned and shook his head, “I will endure.”

“He will not harm you if he truly cares for you.” Alanhang’s face became grim.

“That’s not it… Father loves me dearly, but his rage… it is not his own. He suffers, and all I can do is endure. All I can do is console him. It does not mean he holds no love for me.”

“What do you mean rage?”

“Long ago… when I was only a child-”

“You  _ are _ a child-”

“Hush, brother!”

“When I was  _ younger _ ,” he elbowed Alanhang in the side, “He was kidnapped, and he was gone for a long, long time. When he came back, he was split apart. He had Lo’gosh, the spirit of Goldrinn, the Champion of the Crimson Ring as a gladiator. Then there was my  _ other  _ father… King Varian Wrynn, as king-ly as I’ve ever seen him. I was kidnapped shortly after both met each other… they nearly killed themselves to save me… but the foe’s blast melded them back together. He has never been the same,” Anduin leaned back into the stone wall behind him. “I’ve come to terms with both of them. Lo’gosh is as much my father as Varian is. I… when I was a boy I thought that Lo’gosh was just an angry man, that he wasn’t my father but a simple enraged entity- once I accepted him fully things got calmer. It was better, for a while. But simple things would still make him angry… so I had to be wary. I still do. Me, being a priest… I refused to become a warrior… and yet…” The prince sighed through his nose. “He used to think that I was weak. I have no doubt he still sees that from time to time.” 

“If he respects you, he won’t- but as a father, he has a right to worry.”

“He does.” Another tepid exhale through his nose. “But it doesn’t stop it from feeling patronizing.”

“Anduin…”

“No, it’s fine. I will see him soon… thinking about it is nerve-wracking, but it’s warming… I miss him.”

“Then go back sooner!”

“There is still work to be done here, my friend.” He rose, brushing off his pants and sending a bright smile. “I hope to see you again- hopefully under better conditions. Maybe we could have tea, I think that would be nice!” Alanhang stood beside him and patted his shoulder softly. 

“I hope your eventual reunion goes well, my student.” 

“I… I hope it does too!” He tried to keep positive thoughts- trying to imagine the feeling of his father’s tight, comforting hugs… It always felt like being enveloped in the hot waves of a bonfire, but never getting any hotter. Anduin let his eyes crawl to the sky, the sun beginning to set. He could see skeletal outlines of the stars- but soon returned his gaze to the scholars in front of him. He waved to them as he silently made his way to the temple, not knowing what to say as they too turned and left. 

Anduin yawned as he stretched his arms over his head, a slight twinge spasmed his shoulder as he pulled his arm behind his head to stretch it. It was going to get late, and he didn’t have much else to do. He was getting fairly tired, and a nights’ rest sounded like heaven. He glanced back up toward the shrine, but then turned away as a pang of shame and anxiety shot through him. Why would he ask? It wasn’t his place to- nor was it his place to take a bed from injured strangers… And it would be awkward. Anduin didn’t know them. Why would he ask for something from someone he didn’t know?

He buried his face in his hands as his cheeks flushed red. Why was he even debating this? The place was an inn! 

Well, that was another problem. He didn’t have any money. The prince sighed and shook his head. He could find another place to sleep. It wasn’t as if he  _ hadn’t _ been sleeping on cold, damp soil for the past few months anyway. 

_ That tree looks… comfortable _ , he sulked as he wrapped his cloak tight around himself. Thin and well worn from his adventures, it didn’t provide much friction against the cold. The Vale was right below the cold mountains of Kun-Lai, and the draft didn’t help the shivers crawling down his spine. Anduin plopped down on the base of the trunk and curled over, covering himself with as much as he could with the cloak. The prince sighed and nuzzled his nose into his knees, warming himself with hot breath. 

_ It’s going to be a long night. _

Long night as in Anduin waking up every few hours to a new burst of anxiety when one bush to his side made too many weird sounds.  _ Sleeping in the wilderness has made me really… uh… paranoid. Not that I wasn’t already. _ He pushed his face into the bark of the tree with his numb cheek, exhaling slowly as he shoved his hands under his arms. He could see his breath with how cold the draft was. Light, he wished for a warm fire… 

“Peisho- look out! I think there is an animal under that tree. Don’t wake it!” A hushed voice called out from afar, and Anduin froze. Was it the Horde? No, with a name like that… it couldn’t be.  _ Maybe if I stay really still, they’ll leave. _

“I don’t think that is an animal. Is it one of those Humans? Or a Dwarf? What are they doing out here? It’s freezing!”

“Maybe there was not enough space in the Inn?”

“He looks cold… maybe we should take him inside.”

“It looks too small to be a Dwarf. Is it a Gnome?”

A large paw tapped his back, and Anduin flinched, shooting up and scooting away. 

“Ohh! It’s that healer! What are you doing out here, child? You must be freezing!” Two Pandaren men, one slightly taller than the other. Anduin leaned back against the tree as he stood, wiping the exhaustion from his eyes. 

“I… I did not want to impose upon the injured, I sought it best to sleep out here.” His voice sounded so slurred and sluggish. Anduin winced at his poor manners. “I apologize,” he said quickly, without knowing why, “I did not mean to startle you.” 

“No, it’s alright. But you would not impose! We might need you later. You should have come in! Somebody would make space for you-”

“Inyuu, don’t be so rude.” Peisho scolded his companion. Anduin folded his arms tight across his chest as another shiver came through him. “Come now, healer, we should get you warmed up. It is very late- err, early. There’s a warm fire inside.” 

Warmth sparked the twitched interest of his numb fingers, and Anduin followed them without question. Awkwardness and anxiety gone, he stuck close to their side. Luckily, Peisho didn’t seem to mind. 

The sudden haze of warmth that flew through him drew a hefty sigh from the priest as they descended the stairs to the Inn. He gravitated toward the hearth in the middle of the room and crouched in front of it, hardly giving the strangers he’d just met a goodbye. He could hear their chuckle, and knew that they weren’t offended. They spoke quietly with the owner of the inn, he could hear words that described him, ‘healer’ and ‘human boy’. Inwardly, he smiled. It was nice to be unknown, a traveler, an adventurer. A healer. Not, ‘Prince Anduin, heir to the throne of Stormwind and the Alliance”. He was just… Anduin.  _ Just Anduin _ , he recalled upon Taylor’s joke fondly.

“Prince,” a somber voice called, startling Anduin. He whipped his head up and stood so fast he thought his head would spin. He glared, the adventurer he’d met earlier. Anduin shook his head.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Not here.” He muttered, eyeing the patrons- most getting ready for the day as the sun began to rise. 

“I’m sorry that you’re stuck playing ‘no-name healer’ to the natives, but you must return to your father. I’ve gotten word from the General, she wants you apprehended immediately.”

“The General doesn’t speak for my father. And neither do you.” The mage’s gaze became tight. Anduin knew he had won this one. 

“Fine.”

“See to it that you don’t try to forge royal orders to someone who used to give them,” Anduin replied tersely, watching the mages’ back as he left. It was a valiant effort, Anduin couldn’t deny, but it was the wrong way to put it. Jes-Tereth didn’t bother with small-time jobs. Anduin wasn’t a priority, so she wasn’t going to focus on him. Taylor was preoccupied already, so it couldn’t be him either. Nor anyone else the priest could think of. He turned back to the fire and relished in its warmth. 

His father cared, but he wouldn’t send one mage to retrieve him… knowing him, he’d send a damned battalion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm sorry updates are slow, I'm in the middle of Cross Country season and I've been going to a new charter school that I'm really happy about! Chapters will be slow until... eventually early winter, hopefully. Writers' block is still a thing!


	15. Blossoms Stained With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mogu aren't quite done yet.

Anduin jerked himself awake, finding himself next to the hearth where he had settled the night before. He rested his head back against the wall as the Inn began to pick up business, adventurers going in and out as well as regular folk, the injured being carted and herded to the makeshift infirmary. The priest decided to make his way over, but found his body unwilling to get up at his will. His throat felt sore and scratchy, and he was slightly nauseous at the pit of his stomach. His nose began to run, and he wiped his lip with his sleeve. He was sweating slightly, but he was so cold. Anduin shivered and pulled his cloak tight around himself as the familiar shimmer of Light rolled down his spine. 

He didn’t feel much better after that, but he felt strong enough to stand. With the strengthening presence of the Light, he wondered idly if it had prevented him from contracting any “new-world” diseases until he was safe, and thought that this was the best time to let it all flow through his bloodstream. 

Well. He was certainly feeling the effects. 

His body and mind must have been so high-strung that the Light felt it necessary to compress the illness wreaking havoc on his immune system. Anduin sighed and grimaced at the strange, scratched feeling in the back of his throat. He had the sudden urge to try and clear it, but knew that it wouldn’t do much but make it worse. Anduin readjusted the bow around his shoulders and re-tightened the strap to his quiver. He avoided the strange looks from the Alliance Emissaries shuffling around the temple, hoping and praying they wouldn’t approach him like that mage fellow the day before. He knew he was returning to his father in a few days. No, he didn’t need insistence upon his decisions. Two days left. Two days to pull himself together.

Anduin wrinkled his nose when he sniffed the pungent earthy smell to his clothes. Less sweat, surprisingly- for a teenager, he’d think he would have broke out horribly by then without his oils. Maybe he was just very lucky to have good skin. A spell taught by Jaina came to mind, one that masked ones’ scent- and another that dispelled any grime or disorderly mess on a person or in a room. Handy. Under his breath, he cast it quickly and felt a cold shimmer crawl over his skin. He shuddered, but began walking to mask his discomfort. Anduin weaved through the crowd and made his way up to the terrace, soaking in the new day, and praying he didn’t sleep in too much. When he looked up toward the position of the sun, he squinted. It was nearing mid-day, about ten o’clock. Light, he wished he had a Gnomish watch. 

Anduin blew a stray hair out of his eyes and turned to the new wagon-loads of supplies riding up the stairs via yak, two Pandaren at the end pushing the hatch shut and keeping it up the shallow stairs. He rushed over and gave the cart a last haul over the next dozen steps before it was up onto the flat tile. The yak came to a stop next to the door and the two Pandaren thanked him with short bows. Anduin smiled back as he began to help unloading the crates. The strain on his sickly-exhausted muscles was waning on his patience as he became irritable. He hid it well under his soft-spoken tone, but Anduin was becoming more and more impatient with how weak he felt. It was not the labor- that wasn’t the problem. He was just so… tired. 

A large explosion in the distance knocked him off his feet, shockwaves vibrating through the ground. He managed to keep his head from spinning too much, but he was incredibly dizzy. 

“The Mogu!” Someone shouted.

“The relics! Someone must warn Zhi!”

“What if they’ve already pushed through the Golden Lotus?”

“Then we will defend the palace ourselves!” 

A cacophony of voices blew up from behind him, and Anduin leaned heavily against the railing as his focus was wracked with confusion. Relics, Golden Lotus, palace? What were they talking about? The priest pressed his fingers to his temple, attempting to clear his mind. Fortunately, the Light came. He sighed as the fog cleared and he looked up, squinting from his shady enclosure. The people were panicking, all around him, running-screaming.  _ Is he bleeding? _

“Priest, look out!” Someone screamed, and Anduin instinctually went to his bow. He rolled away just as a rock impressed itself into the ground where he was sitting. Anduin removed the bow from his back and nocked an arrow, looking up at his enemy.

It was no Yaungol, no Mantid. It was the Mogu that Alanhang had spoken of. The children of the Titans that had carved the rivers and valleys of the land. Truly a wonder, and a danger.

Its flesh looked stone-carved, but to his knowledge, they were mortal. Anduin strained his arms and shoulders as he tensed the bowstring, releasing the arrow to the wind as it sunk into the side of the Mogu’s neck. Not the best shot, he wasn’t very focused. It growled and spit at him in another language as it broke the arrow, pulling it out and throwing it to the ground like a dissatisfied toddler. Slowly, he began to back away. He wouldn’t be able to beat this thing. Not on his own. 

Just then, a handful of fireballs flew over his head into the Mogu’s chest. Anduin flinched back and knelt, instinctively summoning a shield. He looked over his shoulder. An Alliance Emissary, not the mage from before, but another. He was taller, friendlier-looking. A human. Almost as tall as an Orc. Maybe he was one of those fabled heroes that he read about in story-books, all large-and-in-charge. The prince nodded to him and ducked off to the side, jumping up onto the thick railing and nocking two arrows. His fingers, calluses gone and skin sensitive, began to ache. He wasn’t used to firing like he did years ago. Light, he wished he had his special gloves. 

The Mogu shrieked with its deep voice as their attacks pressed, Anduin keeping him distracted as the mage behind him kept debilitating him with his fire. He could feel the intense heat create sweat at his back. The priest huffed, only slightly impressed. Jaina’s fire was much hotter, but that was usually when she was feeling angry or passionate. He used the bulk of his waning energy to slide behind the Mogu and stick an arrow deep into its calf. It began to warble and fell to one knee. 

_ Serves you right for leaving your legs exposed _ .

The mage struck him down with a well-timed blow from his bladed staff, blood spurting from his fatal wound. Anduin stepped away from his body as it lay limp against the ground. 

“So, prince. Having a good morning?”

“What’s going on, champion?” He sounded rude.  _ Oops _ .

“Mogu scouts have returned to their clan leaders. They’ve decided to launch an attack on the Vale. I assume they are aiming for the relics the Golden Lotus hides.”

“Where are they?” 

“The Pagoda is to the west, towards the Shrine of Two Moons. The Horde occupies the area. I advise you not to go, your majesty.” 

“I’m sure they have better things to worry about other than I.” 

“I suppose they do, but you being there would set off all sorts of alarms.”

Anduin let out a frustrated noise as he clasped his bow back around his torso. 

“I don’t have time for this! People are dying!” Despite the mage’s protests, Anduin took off in the other direction. 

The Pagoda was- like its namesake- golden-shingled with redwood columns as thick as Elwynn trunks. Anduin ran up the short steps and twisted his head wildly, searching for any survivors amongst the splatters of gore across the valley. The floor, almost completely covered in nearly-dried blood. The prince cringed inwardly and calmed his stomach. A detached paw here… a ripped leg there… 

He felt like throwing up.

But sudden movement stopped him from looking away, a twitching ear and and a rasping voice. The prince jogged forward, attempting the ignore the plash of blood under his boots. He knelt down next to the survivor and placed a hand upon his chest. He surged Light through his arm and into the Pandaren. He gasped, paw coming up to clench into his wrists, claws digging. Anduin was quick to set his other hand on his neck, a calming spell soothing the wounded man instantaneously. The Pandaren’s face was mangled, nose horribly broken- eyes bloodshot, lips coated with blood and nearly torn. Anduin felt a pang of fear flow through him as he struggled to bear with the amount of pain he was radiating. He could feel it penetrate his chest, straight through his ribs. The priest worked his best to numb and soothe him. 

“I…” he hacked, “Zhi… needs help…” Anduin nodded, inhaling and wrinkling at the stench permeating the Pagoda. 

“Don’t speak,” Anduin hushed him as the man cried out in pain. “Hold still, and squeeze my hand if it’s too much,” he offered his palm, and fuzzy fingers enveloped it only a moment later. The prince exerted his power, praying to the Light to save the protector’s strong, bright soul. 

“Priest,” his words felt stronger, and Anduin knew that it was working. He let a small smile grace his face as the wounds on the Pandaren began to close. “Help me stand, boy.” 

“Still yourself!” Anduin urged, moving to the broken bones on his chest. “Please, you will hurt yourself further,”

“You should listen to the boy.” Anduin jumped and summoned his shields, reaching back for an arrow. He looked over to see a Tauren with a large hammer, his ears flat against his head and armor stained with black-colored blood. “The Mogu are brutal. It is best to accept as much healing as you can, seeing you were of the lucky Lotus that survived the attack.” 

“You…” Anduin thought hard, pushing the Pandaren’s chest down gently as he began to quietly protest. “You were that man at the temple. You helped us.” He mumbled.

“Yes. Though Garrosh would execute me for saying this, I am pleased you still live.”

“Why?” Anduin asked tersely.

“I am sure you will be a great asset in overthrowing our warchief.”

“I… ” Speechless, he made a face and turned back to the Pandaren, noting his less-pale fur and deciding to help him stand. The priest kept a firm hold of his elbow, letting the Pandaren use him like a walking stick until they made it outside the Pagoda. 

“I must return to the Mogu’shan Palace and help defend it… if the Weaponmaster gains access to what little information we have on the relics of the Thunder King… I fear for all of Pandaria.” 

“What you must do is  _ not _ something as dangerous as that, seeing as you’ve just come back from the brink of death.” Anduin advised, folding his arms. “You should go to the Seven Stars and help defend. They are not as well-equipped as the Horde is in manpower. Most of the people there are injured refugees. They are not built to fight at the moment.”

“Refugees?”

“I cared for them myself.” 

“I will take your consideration and your kindness. Thank you, priest, I will do my best to help those in need.” 

“Light be with you.”

Anduin let go of his arm, letting him walk back toward the Shrine where the Alliance were based out of. He turned over to the paladin and swept his cloak over his shoulder. 

“Why could you possibly think someone like me could _overthrow_ Garrosh?”  
“I didn’t say you would do it all on your own… Merely, break the straw over the Kodo’s back, so to speak.” The vague metaphor chilled the prince, but he nodded tersely. 

“Are you divinely-driven?” He avoided the use of the word ‘visions’. Only his master could receive such premonitions of the future as clear as freshwater. 

“No, merely a good guesser.”

“You haven’t been wrong before?”

“Not yet.” Anduin huffed. He didn’t sense any arrogance, but he couldn’t deny that the ‘estimation’ wasn’t terrifying in its own way, simply because he gave no details. What would he do? What did he  _ think _ he was going to do? Anduin folded his arms, the uncomfortable feeling rising beside the sickness that made itself apparent again. He coughed quietly into his fist and rubbed the sensitive, sore skin under his nose. 

A large hand rested on his forehead, and Anduin damn near jumped out of his skin. He stumbled back, back hitting the pole.

“I apologize,” the Tauren spoke carefully, “You are ill.” 

“It’s not serious.”

“You have a fever.” 

“If you’re going to lay hands on me I’d like a name, at least.” He changed the topic as fast as he could. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need some paladin coming in and chocking up their superiority like  _ they always do _ .

“Rahai. My name is Rahai Sunchaser. I am a paladin under Sunwalker Dezco.” 

“And… you already know who I am.”  _ Which I was trying to prevent.  _

“Yes. I have a feeling you do not like that.”

Anduin clenched his arms together, brows furrowing as a chill swept through him.

“Just don’t go around waving your arms like a beheaded chicken squawking about the prince of the Alliance.” Rahai chuckled and shook his head, tying his hammer back to his belt.

“I will be sure not to do that. Be safe, priest. I will crawl to the frontlines and try to keep them sated.”

“Of course. Light be with you, paladin.” He cast a blessing, ghosting his fingers along Rahai’s bracer. It was the least he could do in return for his help at the temple. 

The path to the palace was a tricky one, which included him sneaking past skirmishes between Horde soldiers and enraged Mogu. If he could shield all entrances to the palace, no enemy could pass. He could see the steps to a large dark-colored temple, and deemed that one the one he was supposed to guard. He leapt from his bushes and dashed up the stairs, sliding in front of an attacking Mogu and using the force of the Light to knock him down the stairs. The Elf behind him was shocked, but didn’t say anything as Anduin leapt to the side to knock another down. He pressed his palms into the marble tile, Light pouring from the ground up to act as a wall against the Mogu, who began to pound at it. It was like boulders knocking around inside of his head. Painful, and annoying. He grit his teeth and sucked in harsh breaths. The Naaru’nic circle underneath him glowed incessantly, sucking in all of his focus and his mana. 

Champions of the Horde and the Alliance rallied themselves and ventured inside to clear what Mogu were already inside. It felt like an eternity they would be in there as the enraged minions banged and screams and attacked his shield. He could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, willing him to give in and submit, to rest in the Light’s healing embrace. He resisted, however, and even pulled from the shadow strength inside of him just to keep the barrier alive long enough, long enough for the others to come out and chase them away, victorious. He didn’t know if he would have enough mana to heal them if they were injured. 

Anduin gasped as he was pulled up and away, his concentration waning as the barrier flitted away. The Mogu on the other side used this to charge, but the champions met them easily. A kind-faced Blood- no, that wasn’t right. A kind-faced High Elf- he had blue eyes, like Vereesa, with long red hair carried him to the side, and unsheathed his daggers to join the fight himself. A high elf in the ranks of the Horde? Or was he an independent like the Lodges scattered across the Eastern Kingdoms?

Anduin tried to haul himself to his feet, but found his aching body unable to cooperate. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the Light through his body again. If he could become strong enough to stand, he could stay upright and hopefully not fall again. Anduin hefted himself up with the help of the railing and wall behind him. He grasped his shoulder and panted, having to exert all of his energy just to stand. 

“Priest! Please, stay in cover!” Anduin’s ears rung at the sound of a voice, and he turned sluggishly just as the High Elf from before took hold of him. “The field is empty for now, but who knows how many more are coming?” 

“Did you…” He stumbled over his words. Anduin shook his head briskly to wake himself up. “Did they take anything from the Palace?”

“No. We made sure they didn’t.” The redhead confirmed. “There shouldn’t be any more reinforcements, but we should not let anyone travel alone around the Vale, for now.” 

“I just, um,” With the Elf’s help, he was sat on the railing leaning against the wall, “I came here instead of an injured Lotus I found. He was quite adamant about protecting the Palace, and I didn’t want to give him another chance to get hurt.”

“Same purpose, different victim. What would have made it any different, your majesty?” Anduin deflated and yanked his hood up over his head, tugging it down to shield his eyes. 

“Don’t call me that!” He seethed, eyeing the Horde soldiers out across the field cleaning up the mess. 

“Even if you weren’t the prince, they’d still attack you for having round ears and wearing blue.”

“I know, but being captured is different from being killed. Garrosh would hold me over my father’s head for decades if I am caught.” 

“So why did you come close to them, just to endanger yourself?”

“I came to uphold a deal and help the Pandaren, not fraternize.” 

“Are you going to return to your people anytime soon?”

“As soon as I can.” Anduin was getting frustrated with all of the questions, and what little patience he had was wearing thin. He narrowed his eyes. “I need a moment to gather my strength, then I will return to the Shrine to heal the rest.” 

“Here,” the Elf dug around in his bag, handing him a few small vials with bright, tempting liquid in it. “Nicked it off of a prickly mage.” Anduin pursed his lips and took them without protest. He would need all the strength he could get, and pray that the Light would come to his beck and call. 

“Thank you.” He said curtly, adjusting the clasp to his cloak and pulling it tighter around himself. On wobbly feet, he jumped down from the railing and walked past the champions celebrating their victorious battle together. Luckily, none seemed to be extremely injured, so he was not needed. 

The Shrine wasn’t in as much of a panic as he’d prepared himself for. Most of the excitement was over, and Anduin arrived late. He was not the only healer, but most were injured themselves. The prince took it upon himself to get right to work, gulping down the three vials in one go and preparing against the incoming burst of energy to his body. It was almost like an adrenaline rush, but he wasn’t bouncing off the walls like he’d just drank six cups of caffeinated tea. Light, it would give him migraines!

He went from patient to patient, offering help when he could, keeping fevers at bay, healing ghastly wounds. It was more than he’d ever done with Velen. It was a real experience, not just cleansing corrupted Lashers. Anduin could  _ do _ more. This was what he was trying to prove. That he could do more than Father thought he could. He could  _ be useful _ . Like he’d wanted to be for so long… 

At the end of the night, he was exhausted, and the sun was already long gone. He curled up on the floor in front of the hearth again and prepared himself for another long night of back-ache and neck-pain. 

Idly, he wondered while half-asleep, what he could have done differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD HI ITS BEEN SO LONG
> 
> XC is over until next fall, so I'll have some free time! But I am doing other extracurriculars like my book for Flex Friday and Plays/Musicals at my old school, so updates still might be slow until summer! I'll be in CT with my mom for a while and I'll have plenty of time! 
> 
> I've missed writing this so much, and writers' block really sucks! I've appreciated the patience (if you still have any) and I hope you'll stick around! I have no intention of leaving this fic until it's finished!


	16. Reunited (And I've missed your voice)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I missed you too, kiddo."

As more and more Alliance filtered in to help the refugees and establish a holding in the Vale, Anduin noticed a surplus of Seventh Legion soldiers and mages. He was minding his own business, keeping his hood secured past his  _ very _ recognizable nose and eating a breakfast that was given to him as appreciation for all of the help he had given. It was a paste bun, and the filling was Lotus root. It was delicious to his hungry stomach. 

After he had finished the bun, he thanked the Innkeeper graciously and turned to find himself a mage. No doubt they knew where his father would be. It… wouldn’t be a surprise if they’d already constructed a base of operations along the shore. But where? That was the question. 

He found a man lazing outside on the terrace, leaning on the wall while simultaneously attempting to take a nap. The other mages were busy setting up portals to the other capitals, but he was anxious to see his father again. If he wasn’t, he’d go straight to Stormwind… 

“Excuse me, sir?” The tickle in the back of his throat began to itch at a cough. He held it down.

“Huh- oh, what do you want, kid?” He looked startled for a minute, but calmed down quickly and gave him a glare for interrupting his break. 

“Ah,” he pulled his hood back slightly, “Do you happen to know where my father is?”

“Your father? Oh, wow, hey- Light, kid, everyone’s been lookin’ for you!” He exclaimed loudly. Anduin threw his arms out and shushed him. 

“Can you just,” he looked around, face flushed and anxious, “Can you tell me where he is?”

“I can take you there if you’d like.” He offered, voice slightly quieter. “Wonder if I’d get paid extra.”

“Yes, please.” He tugged his cloak around his arms. “If you can, I mean. I couldn’t pay you outright, but-”

“ _ You,  _ pay  _ me? You _ can’t pay me squat. I’d probably get slaughtered if I charged the prince just to get him home.” He idly began waving his hand around and grabbed Anduin by the arm. Anduin made a startled noise as he was dragged through the portal, and the sickening feeling of trippy eustress passed through him. He became nauseous, and he could feel his body disagreeing with the teleportation as he landed on solid but soft, grainy ground. 

* * *

Varian trudged down the sand, Taylor mumbling and reading new report files quietly next to him. There was a crowd forming around the center of the beach, which distracted them enough to leave their post to check it out. The panicked voices began to concern the king, and he rushed forward. Taylor was on his heels, scrolls forgotten in the sands. Was it some sort of attack? Was someone dead?!

“It’s the prince!”

“I thought he’d been killed?”  
“Prince Anduin?!” 

Varian’s eyes shot open at the mention of his son, here, alive, in front of him. He could see a shock of pale blonde hair hidden partly by a dark blue cloak, obviously worn by the tell of the faded dye- shielded by a Seventh Legion mage. The king marched forward, and in the best commanding voice he could muster, he yelled. 

“ _ Enough! _ ” The commotion began to die down as soon as he barked, and all faces turned to him. Varian took deep breaths to stem the rage within him. Anduin was pale, thin, and covered with bruises and scratches. His face was gaunt and piqued by fear with deep bags contrasting the fairness of his skin. The king grimaced. How could he approach him? Not by yelling, but he needed to get Anduin somewhere safe. Somewhere he could heal. “Back to work.  _ The lot of you! _ ” He ground out as quietly as he could while making it clear that there would be absolutely  _ no _ objections. As quickly as they could they filed away- not getting back to work but merely standing at their posts, watching him,  _ judging _ him.

He knelt down in front of Anduin as Taylor took care of the Legion mage. The boy- he, he looked scared. Scared of his reaction, but… the king resisted the urge to pull him into his arms. Varian held out his hand slowly- Anduin tensed.

Anduin sprung forward and reached out to him, throwing his arms tight around his neck. Varian winced and squeezed back gently, not wanting to hurt him. He was practically skin and bones. This wasn’t the place for conversation, so he opted to lift him to his feet by his arm, helping him walk to the keep. Anduin gripped the chainmail with conviction as he struggled to carry himself toward the Landing. Not wanting to offend, Varian pretended not to notice. 

As they entered the keep, the first thing he heard was the Sky Admiral’s tepidly enraged voice echoed across the floor. She’d always been…  _ passionate _ . 

“Prince Anduin Wrynn!” If it weren’t for Varian’s careful grip on him, the king was sure she’d shake the boy senseless. He tugged his son closer to him to avoid the bulk of her scornful lecture. She mentioned something about the SI:7 in shambles looking for him, a burden on the troops, Varian didn’t want to hear it. He walked past her, and Catherine’s voice trailed off, a frustrated groan coming from her. 

“You can sleep in my quarters for now. There isn’t anything set up for you currently.”

“That’s alright, I can sleep on the floor or something-” Anduin winced, his dry throat crackling like popped pebbles. 

“The floor? Why would I let you sleep on the floor? That’s ridiculous. The bed is big enough for us to share.” Varian was genuinely confused as he opened the door to his chambers. They were small, comfortable. Anduin appreciated the coziness more than he thought he would. He could admit with a brave face that he’d prefer cotton sheets over dirt any day. “I’m not going to rest now. You are, if you’d prefer.” 

“I’d… actually,” He laughed quietly, “I’d like to bathe.” 

“There’s a bath over there,” He pointed to a closed door off to the side, “I’m sure it’s not much different than the ones at home.” 

“Thank you.”

Varian watched as he disappeared through the door, and sought out some of Anduin’s clothes he’d thought to bring with him in case the boy  _ did _ come back to him. With a stupid smile on his face, he set his clothes on the bed and left the room. He couldn’t fathom the burst of happiness he was feeling. Anduin was  _ alive _ . He was… scuffed, but he was here. That was all that mattered. He resisted the urge to envelop him in a bear hug on the beach out of fear of hurting him or scaring him. After being alone for so long, it must be difficult for him to try and integrate himself back into the royal society, acting like a prince… instead of who he had undoubtedly adapted to be. 

Varian let a small frown grace his face, then dismissed his thoughts. It would do no good to second-guess. He returned to his temporary office and nodded to a few scholars rummaging through the filing cabinet beside the door. He walked to his desk but didn’t sit down, using the tips of his fingers to move papers around his desk. 

All rubbish, nearly the same as what he’d find stacked on his desk in the keep back home. He sat himself down and rested his cheek on his fist, tapping the body of his quill with his gauntleted fingers. 

He wasn’t able to stop thinking about it. About what in the seven hells had happened to his son? And his dream- his torn up leg? Was it real? It had to be. 

He hadn’t realized how much time he had wasted until the faint knocking at his door became louder and louder. He snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat, calling the person in. A stout dwarf woman peeked out from the door with a stack of files in her hands. 

“My apologies, your majesty! Prince Anduin would like to speak with you, he’s still in your quarters.”

“Thank you.” Varian rose from his chair and hurried back down the hall. He squinted up at the sun. Had it really been an hour already? It was already inches down from its last position. He blinked away the sunspots embedded in his retinas and opened the door to his chambers. 

“Hello, father.” The boy greeted him with a bleak smile, sitting on the side of his bed with a book in hand. He still had plenty of scratches, bruises, and tiny scars that Varian could see. Anduin sat uncomfortably, and it brought Varian back to his vivid dream. He sat down on the bed and took hold of his leg, peeling away the blanket to confirm what he saw. 

“So it was real.”

His calf was stitched- and it actually looked ready to be removed. The king’s face hardened and he moved to the door. He looked at the female guard stationed outside his door and spoke quietly. 

“Can you retrieve the medic Mishka? Tell her she has stitches to take care of.” 

“Of course, sire.” With that, the guard sped off. 

“Father?” Anduin asked, confused. 

“We’ll get these removed. I’m sure it’s ready to close by itself now, and it would  _ not _ be good if your skin healed over the thread.” The priest began to look nervous.

“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“You can squeeze my hand if you’d like. I’m sure she’ll numb it, but  _ no _ healing until after, got it?” 

“Yes, father.” 

The Draenei stepped inside the room a few minutes later, and Anduin tensed slightly. He didn’t like the idea of having to feel her cut and pull the thread from his skin. Varian relaxed his hand open just as Anduin curled his non-injured leg underneath him. Mishka sat on the side of the bed and patted his knee. They knew each other fairly well, but Anduin was still rather uncomfortable with the SI:7 as a whole. They were everywhere, always watching. Varian could tell it made him nervous. She opened her box and dabbed liquid onto a cotton pad, rubbing down the stitched area thoroughly. Anduin looked away as he squeezed Varian’s hand with weak strength- though he felt as if he was giving it his all. 

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he felt cold metal pierce his skin, but oddly, no pain. Varian rubbed his thumb across his wrist and searched for any sign of more discomfort. Anduin’s eyes were near shut and his lips were thin, his face flushed. 

“Just a few more…” Mishka mumbled, and Varian nodded to her. She was a skilled medic, far better than any regular military doctor. Varian was glad that Mathias had hired such talented staff. 

“Finished.” Mishka smiled and patted Anduin’s leg, the king peering down at the ugly, crooked scar. It must have been a nasty bite from a poisonous wild animal. The Wastes, perhaps?

“Thank you, Mishka. I appreciate your skills.” Anduin said quietly, his pale lips returning to their color as he ceased to pressure them with his jaw. Varian placed his hand on his arm and squeezed gently. 

“You’re dismissed, medic. Thank you for your service,”

“Of course, my king.” she gave a formal bow and collected her things before exiting. Varian turned back to Anduin as he pulled his legs up to his chest, weakly healing his leg to completion. He placed his hand over his ankle and squeezed, a small smirk gracing his face. 

“What did you need to talk about?” Anduin grimaced and sighed, leaning back against the fluffed pillows. 

“I wanted to tell you about the Vale- and what I’ve learned in general,” he mumbled, exhausted, “but I’m not sure if I can tell you everything today.” A yawn nearly cracked his jaw. 

“You can sleep, if you’d like. You don’t have to tell me anything right now.” Varian’s brow furrowed with concern, he still looked incredibly pale. Anduin stretched out on the bed and curled over, taking Varian’s gauntleted arm with half-lidded eyes. He hummed sleepily and shook his head. 

“I missed you, father.” His voice slurred, whining when Varian pulled his arm away. He unbuckled the clasps of his gauntlet and left his arm bare, stroking his cheek with his knuckles. 

“I missed you too, kiddo.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will probably be maybe once or twice a month If I'm motivated enough


	17. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes he can be so brash that it hurts.

“Anduin wake up,” Varian nearly rolled his eyes at the sight of the bedridden teen, grumbling at being woken up. His messy, fluffy blonde hair perked up from the soft duvet. A pale nose popped up and two blue eyes followed. The king shook his head and set the steaming bowl down onto the nightstand beside the occupied bed, sliding into the chair he’d sat in before and digging into his own dinner. 

“I brought dinner, and I know you’re hungry,” his gaunt pixie-face peeked up at him, fresher than he’d looked before. He still had bags under his eyes, but they were a little less prominent. The few hour nap must have done wonders. 

“You don’t use chopsticks?” Anduin yawned as the blanket fell around his shoulders, collecting the shallow dish in his lap and picking up the foreign utensils with ease. Varian shrugged and shook his head, biting into a fried dumpling. 

“I never really found the time to learn,” Anduin smiled around the food he was currently stuffing in his mouth and gestured to the chopsticks sitting on the counter. Varian sighed and reached over, picking them up and pulling them apart. Anduin set his down across his plate and moved the plate back onto the nightstand so it wouldn’t spill. He leaned forward and helped put his fingers into place and watched diligently as Varian attempted over and over to use the uncomfortable position to his advantage. It just… felt so different and strange. Varian’s mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“I think I prefer forks,” Anduin laughed and began to eat again, using the chopsticks much smoother than Varian ever could. “Do you feel any better?” He asked, reaching forward and smoothing the back of his hand across his forehead. He didn’t have a fever, but he was still pale and that was worrying in itself. He checked every few hours to see if his temperature had risen, but it had stubbornly stayed between worrying and not worrying.

“I feel…” Anduin sighed as his shoulders sagged, his gaze drew downcast and Varian lifted his head slightly, concerned. “I’m just tired. It’s… it’s been a long few months…” 

“I know what you mean, when… when we got the transmission I-”

Anduin interrupted his father, “You don’t have to talk about it. If you don’t want to.”

“Is it embarrassing to hear about how much I missed my most precious son?” He teased, setting his half-eaten plate aside as Anduin hid a smile behind his chopsticks. 

“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, eyes not leaving his plate. “But, about earlier… I wanted to talk to you about the Vale.”

“You mentioned that.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry… I was just so tired,” the boy yawned again, rice nearly falling out of his mouth. The prince shot his hand up to cover it and blushed, embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. Your body is still recovering from everything you’ve gone through these past three months.” Varian reached forward and rubbed a bit of sauce off of his cheek. Anduin grimaced and pulled his face away. 

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Anduin gritted, shoving more rice in his mouth. “The Vale is beautiful, like the land, it’s actually alive. It breathes like we do. We  _ can’t _ bring our wars here. It’s unjust, and it’s unfair to the Pandaren because this is their  _ home _ , not ours. They have their own problems to deal with- adding ours will just make it worse,” Anduin pled, dinner set aside and forgotten as he stared hopefully up at his father. Varian placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Don’t worry, Anduin. We came to Pandaria only for you and to protect the natives from the Horde. If they no longer have a need for our assistance, we’ll leave. But the base will still be active for commerce and whatnot. From what I’ve heard of Garrosh and his soldiers, though, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be going anywhere anytime soon, I'm afraid.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. Anduin leaned forward and took hold of his arm. 

“That’s perfect...” He sighed, relieved. “I just don’t want to ruin things here like we’ve done before… you have to admit, father, this wouldn’t be the first time the Horde and the Alliance have ruined something good.” Varian grimaced and nodded. 

“I know, Anduin. Don’t remind me.” 

The dour mood forming brought Anduin down. He didn’t mean to make it sound as if it was his fault, it just slipped out that way. Anduin faltered for a moment, but moved himself to swing his legs over the side of the bed, feet hovering above the ground. Varian looked up at him and gave him a weak smirk, his downcast face still overshadowed with doubt. Anduin startled for a moment. 

“Father- you- did you grow a  _ beard?!” _ The prince sputtered. He hadn’t even noticed until then! How tired was he? It wasn’t a dwarf-like beard he was so used to seeing around Stormwind, but it was  _ there _ . A thick layer of brown hairs from sideburn to sideburn. Anduin gaped. He couldn’t believe it. He’d never seen his father with a beard before! It was a strange feeling- like seeing a dragon in a sea of pigeons. 

“You didn’t notice? And no, I didn’t grow it. I just got really busy. To be honest, I didn’t really notice much either. I was just trying to throw myself into work or looking for you.” he rubbed his hand across his face, “It’s warm.” Anduin laughed giddly and reached forward, feeling his scruffed jaw. 

“It is!” Anduin reached forward and wrapped his arms around his neck, pushing their cheeks together. Varian chuckled and nearly pulled him off the bed, squeezing his son tight. He pecked his smooth cheek, scratching him with his scruff and the priest laughed. 

“I am content to sleep right here,” he said jokingly, “you are  _ very _ warm.” 

“I’ve been told I’m a heater. But, you can’t go back to sleep yet,” Varian nudged him upward as he stood, placing the boy back on his feet. 

“Why  _ not?” _ he whined, shivering as he touched the stone floor. Varian gestured to his cloak and boots.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. It’s been waiting for a while.” The king stood to the side as he got ready, nearly falling over in his haste to put on his boots and clasp his cloak together. Varian huffed a laugh and opened the door, holding it for him as he practically skipped past. 

Thankfully it was dark enough out for the dockworkers, stable hands, and peons to be in the inn having dinner and getting ready for sleep themselves. No doubt they would be bothered with the onlookers busy. When Anduin turned questioningly to him, silently asking for directions while bouncing on the balls of his feet, Varian pointed vaguely in the direction to the stables. Though Anduin didn’t actually know the stables were there because it was all part of the surprise. 

The beach was a cool calm, a slight breeze wafting over the ocean as he trailed a few yards behind his energetic son. He was so happy to have him back, Varian couldn’t actually bear to express how elated he was. The same feeling from earlier had swept over him, wanting to lock them both away in the keep and never, ever leave. He’d never stopped wanting a normal life. Varian knew it would never happen, but he could hope. Hope for a future for himself and Anduin. 

“Father… father you  _ didn’t _ ,” Anduin turned to look at him with the biggest smile on his face, one that betrayed the mischievous spark in his eyes. 

“I did.” 

“Reverence!” He shouted, startling the other mounts in the stables. Anduin ran forward and turned his head wildly until he found the stark white clydesdale stomping excitedly in his stable. Anduin threw the door open and threw himself at the big horse, embracing his thick neck and carding his fingers through his long blonde hair. The horse whinnied happily and nuzzled his snout into Anduin’s back. 

“I missed you so much, big guy.” Anduin pulled back with a big grin and kissed the ridge of his nose. He could tell that Reverence was itching to go for a ride and contemplated asking his father or just doing it anyways. Truthfully he wouldn’t be happy and decline, wanting to keep him close. Not like Anduin was particularly opposed to that, but he felt so guilty… Reverence probably hadn’t gotten any exercise in months and was so tense and anxious. Feeling shaky in his confidence, he turned around to find his father walking up the stables and laughing as he set his palm on Reverence’s forehead to calm him. 

“Father, can I take him out for a ride? Please? It’s been too long for him- he’s probably so stressed-”  
“Anduin,” Varian knelt down in front of him, “you just returned today. Let yourself rest, see how you feel tomorrow. If you’re feeling fine you can take him out after breakfast, okay?” The prince nodded, turning back to his horse and tending to him quietly, little murmurs and coos every once and a while like he was playing with a puppy rather than an twenty-two-hundred pound horse. 

They’d left Reverence with a strangely sad goodbye from Anduin- as if he’d never see him again- though he knew the boy was just overreacting and feeling guilty because he’d been gone for so long. 

He and Anduin settled into bed for the night, as strange as it was sleeping next to him again after so many years, it felt right. Anduin’s quarters were being drawn together as a request from himself. 

He laid awake, staring at the ceiling with a feeling of nostalgia as Anduin snuggled up to his side, dead to the world as he slept peacefully- probably the most peaceful he’d had in the past few months. It made him wonder, was Anduin used to sleeping on cold, hard dirt by now? Was he used to shivering under the stars rather than warm and safe under a comforter? He long had he gone hungry? Unprotected? Had he been scared the whole time, or had he gotten used to it and faced it with a smile? 

He wouldn’t be surprised if he did, but it was still hard to believe. How had he even survived? Varian decided to try and bring it up over breakfast. And maybe ask him the  _ real _ reason Anduin refused to return home.

_ He was obviously startled and scared with the way I spoke to him, maybe it brought up some old memories? I’m unsure, but I apologize. I won’t be so brash with him in the future.  _

Kearnen was obviously upset with herself and the failure of her mission, allowing herself to be struck still just by looking into Anduin’s eyes. She promised that she wouldn’t let him get away- and she wouldn’t upset him again if it meant completing the mission as a sensitive case. She’d brought it up to her peers and they mutually agreed to take it slow after it became apparent that Anduin didn’t want to be found. 

Varian pressed his lips together and frowned, twisting his arm to rest his hand over Anduin’s head. He brushed his hair back from his thin face, fingers trembling. 

It was so hard to think of anything else when he could recognize his failure as a parent. He couldn’t keep Anduin safe. He couldn’t even get any search parties close enough to bring him home without the boy becoming skittish and running off. 

What was so terrifying about coming home? 

Anduin shifted, his wide-neck revealing part of a ragged scar at the edge of his collar, right into the meat of his shoulder. Varian strained his neck and squinted through the darkness, reaching over to pull the cloth aside. Anduin wiggled over, shivering from the cold on his exposed skin. Varian ran his thumb over the slightly craterous scar, dipping into rough skin and back onto the smooth, unmarked paleness of his arm. The king felt his breath catch. Anduin had enough scars as it was for his age, only fourteen- his arms were marked up as well. It didn’t happen at home, so  _ what the hell happened? _

Could it have been the Horde? The Mantid, Hozen- even the Pandaren? He was itching to know and nearly considered waking Anduin up. But… Varian glanced down at him again. 

Dark bruise-like bags hung under his eyes, making Varian settle down and brush his hair soothingly. It wouldn’t be right to wake him up after his deprivation of sleep. Anduin needed to be rested and calmed. When he’d first taken the boy from the beach, his muscles were so tense Varian feared the tendons would snap under any touch. 

He sunk back into the soft mattress, rubbing Anduin’s back as he fell deeper into his slumber. Varian let himself fall into an uneasy sleep beside him, ears open for any intruders. 

* * *

Varian stumbled awake once the gentle knocking at the doors of his quarters echoed throughout the room. He groaned and looked up, his arm numb under the heavy, still dead to the world blonde head that rested there. Gently, he maneuvered his arm out from under him and tucked the blankets around him. He padded to the door and pushed back his messy, uncombed hair. He opened the door slightly and squinted, the blurriness still on the edges of his vision. 

“Good morning, ma’am.” The smell of food invading his senses intensely nearly startled him. The woman handed him a tray with two small plates on it. Varian made a confused noise. The woman laughed. 

“Good morning, your majesty. I figured the prince would still be a little too shy to come out to eat in the hall, so I brought you two breakfast.”

“Oh,” Varian said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head as he took the tray. “Thank you, ma’am.” 

“There’s coffee if you need it, too.” Varian nodded and toed the door shut, setting the tray on the nightstand. He peered at the gnomish clock, nearing eight in the morning. Was it really that late? 

He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the mug, inhaling the freshly ground coffee as he leaned back and looked down at Anduin. He had a soft, tired look that all kids get when they’re sleeping. Varian chuckled and pinched his nose, pulling on it. 

Anduin’s eyes shot open and he lurched backward. Varian nearly spilled his coffee in his haste to calm the boy down before he set the bed on fire. He pulled him to the edge by his ankles, wrapping his arms around his back and pulling him to his chest as he held Anduin’s arms down against his torso. Anduin kicked and fought against him until he realized that it wasn’t an enemy holding him down. From his pinched position, he tipped his head back, a guilty frown on his face. Varian chuckled and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Anduin mumbled, patting his hands. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that anyways.” He released Anduin’s pinned arms and pinched his nose again, the prince’s face scrunching up as he tried to reel back and pull away. Anduin pried his fingers away from his nose and reached up to pinch his instead. Varian playfully snapped his teeth like a wolf, tightening his arms around his son. 

“There’s breakfast if you want it. The chef was very considerate of his shy you were.”

“I’m not shy!” Anduin protested as he folded his arms and pulled his knees to his chest with a huff. Varian handed him his plate, a small bowl of rice and sweetened tofu on the side with powdered dumplings. “Have the chefs just automatically decided to switch cuisines or did people ask for it?”

“Actually, it was more out of respect for the people here than anything. The native travelers that pass through have been very thankful for our contribution. We also buy directly from Pandaren exporters, so we’re also boosting business for small-time farmers. Though, there still is some stuff from home that was brought here. But I’m pretty sure you can find salted mackerel almost anywhere.” 

“I think mackerel is the only fish that I actually enjoy.” 

“I don’t understand you sometimes, you know. We live next to the _sea_ , so why don’t you like seafood?”  
“It just doesn’t smell, taste, or look appetizing. Crustaceans are just the bugs of the sea.” 

“Excuse me?” Varian sounded mock-offended, “are you insulting my favorite foods?”

“You’re eating  _ cockroaches _ .” Anduin stuck his tongue out. “Water bugs. Disgusting, all of them.” He waved his hand absentmindedly as he stuck a dumpling in his mouth. 

“You’re just like your mother, I swear.” 

“She didn’t like seafood either?” 

“Not one bit. When she was pregnant with you I couldn’t eat it at all because it would make her sick. So we pretty much already knew you would hate it as well, she liked to rub that in my face. She thought she was so funny.”

“I mean, I think I can be pretty funny.” 

“Yes, you’re awfully ridiculous to watch. It’s quite amusing.” 

“You know what, I’m not gonna talk to you for the rest of the morning.” Anduin faced away from him as he ate and Varian laughed as he sipped his coffee, moving to get ready for the day.

“I think your quarters have been drawn, just down the hall from me. There should be some clothes for you there,” he reached over and tugged on the back of his long, blonde hair. “And maybe a few hair ribbons. Do you want to cut this again?” Anduin placed his empty dishes on top of Varian’s and tugged on his bangs. 

“I don’t really know, I don’t think so… but if it gets in the way?” 

“Is that a question or a statement?” 

“Both?” 

“You don’t have to decide right now. I like it. Do you?”

“You like it? Is it because your hair is long too?”

“No. It’s not that,” He pulled out a brush from a drawer and began to angrily brush his hair. Anduin had sadly inherited his curse of thick hair, rats nests’ forming quite easily on that back of his head when his hair began to grow out. Anduin groaned from behind him as he plucked the brush from his hands and moved the section of his hair onto his back. 

“It sounds like you’re trying to tear your hair out. Why do you have it this long if you hate brushing it?” 

“Family tradition. Every Wrynn has had long hair.” He tugged a wrinkle out of Anduin’s pant leg as he brushed the knots out as gently as he could, apologizing if Varian winced slightly from his scalp being irritated. 

“Really? Maybe I’ll keep growing mine, then…” 

The comfortable silence went on for a few minutes until Anduin finished brushing his hair and scooted to the edge of the bed, pushing to lay against his side like an affectionate cat. Varian rested his chin on top of his head as Anduin began to fall asleep against him. 

Briefly, the flashing image of the scar across Anduin’s shoulder came to mind, and Varian pulled his head away, looking down at his exhausted son. He squeezed his arm and shook him slightly. Anduin yawned, tilting his head up and pushing his cheek onto his chest. 

“Hm?” 

“Can I ask you something?” Anduin nodded sluggishly against him. Varian tugged at the collar of his sweater, finger brushing against the rough crater of a scar. Anduin flinched. “What’s this?” He opened his mouth slightly, but decided against it and sat up fully, crossing his legs and facing him. The priest looked ready to burst like he couldn’t keep his voice down but was too scared to bring it up. Anduin looked down at his small, pale hands and wrung them together nervously. His brows furrowed as he opened his mouth for the second time. 

“When I first began to explore the Jade Forest, after I’d split off from Ren and Lina- I was chased by a Horde scouting party,” Anduin covered the exposed scar with his hand and shuddered, “there was an undead woman and a hozen. I didn’t know there was a third member to their group,” Varian’s arm tightened around him, “the woman threw some sort of smoke bomb at me, and then suddenly, I was falling. I realized that I had been shot right away. There was an orc sniper not far off from where I was. From there, they took me to Nazgrim. But the General had decided to use me against the Alliance and brought me to the Serpent’s Heart,” his throat grew tight as he remembered the two Pandaren that had been shot down so brutally in front of him, “eventually they were caught off guard and I managed to escape in the confusion.” He finished quickly, not wanting to remember the horrible feeling of guilt, how he’d abandoned his people for his own safety. Anduin still couldn’t believe that he had  _ run away _ . Like a coward. 

Like a child.

How long had he been trying to prove that he  _ wasn’t _ a child? Too long. 

“Hey, where are you?” Varian tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear as he tilted the boy’s chin up. “Are you alright, son?” Anduin grimaced and nodded, leaning back into his side and hiding his face into his chest. 

“Just… just tired.” 

Varian’s face became hard. 

“Can I ask another question?” Reluctantly, he nodded. 

“Was the reason you didn’t want to come home… because of me? Or… or because of her?” Anduin froze like ice against him, fist tightening in his shirt. The king wrapped his other arm around him. “You don’t have to answer… but I’d like you to.” Anduin stayed silent, but he could feel the muscles in his arms tense and tremble. 

It was clear that the reason surrounding it was  _ her _ , and it was a definite yes. Varian cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course, he was part of the problem- but even then, Anduin never rejected him. He embraced Lo’gosh as a father as much as he was, but when it came to Katrana there was always something that put Anduin off. That made him scared. 

“Anduin,” his breathing was labored, “I don’t know about everything that had happened between you two… but, I’ve always…”

“You’ve always wanted to ask, I know. I know.” His voice was muffled. “I…” he sniffed, pulling his face away from his shirt and wiping his wet eyes. “I don’t want… I don’t want to tell you yet. I won’t. I can’t.” 

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t need to be upset,” he wiped away the wetness from the corner of his irritated eye. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. This one’s on me, okay?” 

“You don’t  _ need _ to  _ protect me _ .” Anduin’s voice was slightly bitter. 

“I do, Anduin, it’s my job.” He said softly, though the annoyance from his insistent tone was boiling in his gut.

“I don’t need you to die for me! I won’t let you!” Anduin shoved him away, standing up. 

“Anduin- it’s not a matter of what  _ you _ want. If it comes down to it, I will do  _ anything  _ to protect you.” Varian tried to reason, though he knew it wouldn’t register to Anduin, who believed that putting his life over anyone else’s was wrong. “This isn’t something to argue about. You don’t have a say in what I can do. I’m an adult, you’re not.” 

“Father,  _ please _ , don’t say that!” 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t say that you’ll just throw your life away for _ me _ !” Fat tears rolled down his pale, distressed face. “I need you here,  _ with me _ . So don’t say that you’ll die trying to protect me!” He sobbed as he tried to angrily wipe the tears out of his eyes. Varian knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug. 

He hadn’t thought of it that way, just another revelation of how selfish he was. He would do anything to keep Anduin alive. But… he never considered how Anduin would feel if he were to die. Would he be able to go on, knowing he was the last of his family, alone in a cruel, war-torn world? 

Anduin wailed bitterly into his shoulder, nails digging into his back. Varian massaged his scalp, hushing him like he was an infant crying out for his mother all over again. He murmured apologies close to his ear, promising to stay alive and by his side for as long as he was able. 

“One thing, my son, promise me one thing,” Varian cradled his cheek as he looked down at Anduin’s blotchy, red face. 

“What?” 

“We won’t leave each other, okay? Promise.” Anduin sniffed back his tears as a small, sweet smile graced his face. 

“I Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I know it's a little dialogue-heavy, I'm sorry. Sometimes I can't type stuff out the way I want to. Have a lovely day, night, or afternoon!


	18. Temple of hope, or of war?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian endures a trial of patience.

Anduin didn’t really know what to expect after his meltdown in front of his father. Whether it was to be treated like glass or ignored completely- all he knew is that both never happened. 

After the whole… scenario… passed by, he’d requested to take Reverence out on a ride. So, he’d saddled and tacked, and set out to make a circuit around the surrounding territory that was relatively safe. If they were in any trouble, Reverence was fast enough to escape it. 

The wind blowing through his clean, unbound hair gave him a feeling of peacefulness he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It was as if he’d spent years away from home rather than a short few months. Somehow, he’d become accustomed to the quiet yet chaos-filled forests of Pandaria, the beautiful, millennia-years-old trees that sat, old, crooked, but still very much alive on its coasts where the splash of the ocean met the soft dirt crags. 

Anduin realized that he spent so much time being afraid of things that he should have taken advantage of for experience’s sake. 

Reverence neighed loudly and galloped faster down the cobblestone pathway, reminding Anduin that this was a leisure ride and he shouldn’t waste it by thinking too hard. The prince smiled and leaned forward to pat the side of his cheek. 

“You’re eager, aren’t you? How long has it been since we’ve ridden together? Almost eight months? I’m sorry, Reverence.” He whinnied in response and threw his head back, flicking Anduin with his hair. He sputtered and spit his thick locks out of his mouth.

“I said sorry!” Reverence made the noise again, chirping as if he were laughing at him. Anduin sat back and glared down at the back of his head. Honestly, this horse would be the death of him. Shaking his head, he threw the moment out of his mind and leaned forward, urging the sprouty stallion to run faster. 

In the distance was nothing but swamp and trees, but much further than that was a group of people. Their skin looked mildly purple-ish pink, others slightly blue- their armor dull, camouflaged colors. Could it be night elves? The person in front of the group began to wave frantically at him, and Anduin urged Reverence to halt in front of their party. There were less than half a dozen, but most were injured. The tallest, a night elf male, greeted him stoically. 

“Prince Wrynn! I am grateful we have stumbled upon each other. We have important information for the High Priestess and the High King! However, we cannot move as fast due to our injured. We currently have a Horde party holed up in the Temple of the Red Crane. We left a few behind to secure the place, but they haven’t moved since. We believe they are planning to hold the natives hostage.” his glowing eyes flickered to Reverence, and then back to him. 

“Do you need any healing? Is anything fatal?” Anduin wouldn’t just  _ leave _ them there if their injuries were too severe for them to carry on. He scanned the small group, looking for any of the injured and how they were faring. The elf shook his head. 

“We will be fine on our own and should arrive to Lion’s Landing within the next few hours. But please, you will be much faster than us,” He urged, ears drooping slightly as one of the members began to hack and cough. “This is urgent, your majesty.” 

“Of course. Stay safe, Sentinels. I’ll have them prepare the infirmary for your arrival.” With his knees he urged Reverence to turn around and snapping the reins. Reverence took off almost immediately, seeming to understand the urgency. Sometimes, he wondered if horses could even understand humans. 

It only took him about forty minutes to get from the Landing to those night elves, but Reverence seemed adamant to help, and Anduin was glad. He was also probably trying to burn off some energy because he knew that his father wouldn’t let him back out for the day. He was paranoid and protective enough as is. Wasting too much time would cause him to worry- and then send a batallion out looking for him. 

Anduin squinted against the sun’s rays as they bounced off of the water right into his eyes. He could see the high blue Alliance flags in the distance, and wondered briefly if taking a shortcut through the woods would be safe. In the swampy, thin forests of Krasarang, things in the way were easily detectable. He gently nudged Reverence, squeezing his knees an edging him off of the path. 

“Feel like taking a faster path, bud? We should be able to cut our time in half.” Reverence flicked his eyes back at him and whinnied, leaping over a fallen log. It was a wetland bog, so there was no doubt Anduin would apologize to him with his favorite treats while cleaning his hairy, muddy hooves. He could feel the spray of water and damp soil hit him in the cheeks as they pushed on, the Landing just in view. They would enter the base through the back by the wooden docks. Hopefully they could slip in without startling anyone. 

Coming up to where damp, trampled soil met wood, a man carrying a crate shouted and slipped backward as Anduin slowed Reverence to a jog. Anduin shouted an apology over his shoulder and slowed him to a trot. They tip-toed around workers and guards, getting a stink-eye from the mud Reverence was tracking in. Anduin smiled sheepishly as an apology and continued on toward the keep. 

Approaching the stairs he stopped Reverence and jumped off the side of the saddle, mindlessly patting his mane as he inspected the filthy state of his hooves. 

“I’ll clean those up after, okay? Just be careful. Head back to the stables for now. I’ll come over after talking with Father.” He kissed his snout and turned to jog up the stairs. 

Anduin peered through the foyer of the keep, wondering where the high king could be. He couldn’t be doing paperwork, it wasn’t very pressing today. In fact, the only thing on his mind was the warfront, which was currently pressing it’s way through Pandaria, with the way Garrosh was pulling his punches. 

The orc hadn’t let up on the Alliance, nor the Pandaren, pushing his own fractured army to conquer any part of Pandaria that hadn’t met them with crushable resistance. They’d had some sort of tense stalemate within the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, but that was the only place of peace that could be found throughout the continent. Anduin worried further for his people, the Pandaren, and his father more every day. 

“Father?” He called to a familiar fur-cloaked individual speaking with just the person he needed to confront. He turned, greeting Anduin with a smile, then frowning at his boots and the hem of his pants, caked with mud. 

“Did you go splashing through the bog?”

“Only a little bit, but I must speak with you, and the High Priestess. It’s urgent.” He grasped his father’s gauntlet and then glanced to Tyrande. She greeted him fondly and gestured for him to continue.

“I ran into a party of your sentinels, High Priestess, and I was given troubling news. Thankfully your people seem to have it under control for now, but I believe sending a party of champions to delegate the hostage situation at Chi-ji’s temple would make it much easier on them.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, who has who hostage in the temple?”

“A Horde Party has been trapped there, but they’re holding the scholars hostage. This is a delicate situation.” It was as if he’d switched modes within an instant. Pushing the urgency of the situation while keeping his voice level seemed to prevent the two leaders from completely engulfing themselves in rage with their combined hate of the Horde. 

“Are any of my people dead?”

“Fortunately when I asked if they needed any healing they declined, but there were a few injured. None fatal, but enough to have the need to carry them all the way back here.” Tyrande looked relieved. “I’ll need to speak with the priests in the infirmary to get it ready for their arrival.” 

“Thank you, your majesty,” Tyrande smiled and squeezed his shoulder. She then turned to Varian. “Shall we take care of these dogs before the situation escalates?” 

“We will gather a small group of champions and have them accompany us. Come.” Varian turned to walk out the door, but Anduin’s hand stopped him. 

“Father, please be careful. Come back in one piece, will you?” Varian smiled and tugged on his cheek, still chubby from the still-burning baby fat slowing disappearing from his lean build. 

“Of course.” 

* * *

“We have them cornered in the temple. We should strike now.” Tyrade said cooly, her rage poorly concealed in her pupiless glowing eyes. Varian furrowed his brow and peered further into the temple. Anduin had mentioned hostages, and so had the sentinels when they arrived. 

“Things are rarely what they seem, Tyrande. And my son tells me this is a sacred place.”

“All the more reason to purify it.” She replied immediately, large ears twitching as loud noises clambered from the inside. Varian narrowed his eyes at the large orc warriors standing guard in front of the door, tense and ready for a strike. He noticed two other guards, more of their party inside ready to defend. 

“They’re defending a fixed position. I’m not going to play their game. We’ll draw them out.” Varian turned his back to them, thankful for the barrier Tyrande had raised around them so he would not be struck in the back by bolt, bullet, or arrowhead. He turned his head to three out of the eight in his party. 

“You are wasting precious time!” Tyrande seethed, her fist clenching around her bow. Varian ignored her and spoke to the three champions. Two humans and a worgen. All three looked pretty stealthy. 

“You three will be my eyes and ears. Fan out! Prepare a defense!” He shouted to the rest, turning his gaze back to the temple entrances as his companions scurried to carry out his order. 

In no time there were traps lain across the field, defended by sharp wooden barricades as his champions readied themselves for battle. Varian stepped up beside the High Priestess as the Horde party inside began to look nervous. The king grinned. They were done for. She frowned at the well-equipped field. 

“I believe you are on to something,” She said through grit teeth. “I am glad we have not suffered casualties… yet.” Something in her tone put Varian on edge. Was she seeing something that he wasn’t? 

They heard a flap of wings and the whoosh of wind cut straight through as a large red crane landed behind them. 

“Ah, a test of patience!” He bemused, plucking his feathers with his beak, “Will the wolf behave as a warrior, or a king?” Varian bristled and met Tyrande’s astonished gaze. 

“High King! They charge!” He whipped his head over to the doors just as various members of the party rushed out, axes and swords in hand. What looked to be the leader leaped right over their defenses and charged for Varian. He ripped Shalamayne off of his back and met his greatsword with heavy resistance. He eyed the shock landmine behind the defense, and made his plan.

He shoved back with the ferocity of a bashing shield, staggering the orc, who shook his head and charged again with a battlecry. Varian clashed with him again and repeated the process, causing the orc to step right on the mine, which was followed by an explosion of electrical shocks. Varian shielded his eyes with his arm and peered around the painful brightness as the fried warrior dropped to the ground, dead. He grimaced at the smell of burnt flesh and glanced around the temple grounds. His champions still stood, slightly roughed up, but alive. He grinned. 

“The day is ours… and not a drop of Alliance blood on these holy grounds.” He locked Shalamayne back in place on the clasp of his breastplate. Tyrande chuckled beside him, fastening her bow around her torso. 

“You did well. I… would have charged right in. Many lives would have been lost in my rush for victory.” Varian placed a hand on her shoulder and met her hidden pride with his own. 

“There was a time when I’d do the same. But I have learned much, and I’ve fallen for too many of Garrosh’s tricks to risk doing it again,” he returned his gaze to the loose, fine dirt beneath them. “ _ We _ define the terms of engagement. I may not be a politician,” his mind though of Anduin for a flash of a moment, “but I am a fighter. I know we can win this war.” He removed his hand from her shoulder just as the champions began to dismantle their defenses. “We need to stand together. Trust that I won’t fail, and that I will do the right thing… If we act as one we will not lose.” Tyrande smiled and nodded. 

“I see that now. Our strength is yours to command. May this be the first of many victories, High King.” Her chest puffed with pride, a determined smile crossed her face as she turned to tend to her people. Varian glanced back over to the red crane who had finished plucking an old layer of feathers. He stood and tapped his beak against his chestplate, right over his heart. 

“A sword is a weapon for the warrior, but patience is a weapon for the king.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would you feel if I told you I might be posting the first chapter of the revitalized PAYING PRICES we've all missed? Happy? Angry? Don't care at all? Let me know!
> 
> (p.s., if there are any typos ignore them, I'm writing this on my school laptop and the keyboard is garbage)


	19. The Dalaran Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sunreavers made their stake. There was no going back now.

Varian collected wooden plate, setting two apples, half of a sandwich, and piling a generous amount of assorted berries onto it,  and proceeded to exit the kitchens after a strange look from the chefs. Varian chuckled and shook his head, of course, it wasn’t for him. If he ate like an elf every day he would be unable to haul around Shalamayne as well as his armor- as heavy as both were, the sword required a certain amount of strength to wield. Anduin favored lighter weapons, easily hideable- or nimble weapons, such as his bow. One Varian had gifted to him on his birthday after his older one had been shattered by a Twilight’s Hammer drakonid. He approached a small training ground, just a plethora of targets set up by the dockside for archers. Currently being used by Anduin and a few others, some had actually begun to spar. He moved up behind the boy, carefully lining a shot to the target up above, hung precariously in the trees. 

“Hungry?” His low voice startled the boy as he voiced his fright, releasing the string as the arrow flew right beside the bullseye. Anduin let his arms go limp as he groaned. 

“How are you so  _ quiet?- _ no, wait, you’re not. I just wasn’t paying attention,” He turned and gave Varian a dry look, adjusting the quiver hanging off of his thick leather belt. The High King was pleased that his son was taking an interest in his defense studies again, more out of love and fascination with the weapon rather than an obligation. Varian handed him the plate and Anduin took it. “Thank you.” He popped a berry into his mouth, spitting the seed into the unoccupied dirt and stepping on it to bury it under the soil. Varian began to lead him out to the significantly smaller loading dock, leaning on the pole as Anduin sat down to eat his food. 

He let Anduin chow down for a few minutes, staring out at sea. He made extra sure to look away from him, knowing about Anduin’s distaste for being watched while he ate. It always bothered Varian, the boy acting like he wasn’t  _ allowed _ to eat when he was hungry. Hardly asking for food, like he was used to it. Varian had no doubt it was all part of the power-craving Onyxia’s plan to weaken Anduin and then remove him from the picture, keeping him as some sort of political slave. 

Anduin finished off the sandwich and one apple, clearing most of the berries. He set the plate aside and curled up around his knees. 

“So, what do you need?”

“I actually was going to give you a task,” Anduin perked up, jaw tensing. “I know you haven’t seen Jaina in a while, and I think she’d be happy to see you. Aside from that, I need you to talk to her about the blood elves claiming fealty to the Horde, right in the middle of Dalaran.”

“The Sunreavers?”

“It doesn’t make sense that a faction-sworn organization is right in the middle of a neutral city.”

“What about the Silver Enclave?”

“They don’t work directly with the Alliance, nor have they claimed to. If they did, this is the first I’m hearing of it,” Varian sighed. “I know how this sounds. I’m not trying to have you take advantage of her. I’d just rather you speak to her about it than me. She listens to you better. Peacemakers, and all of that.” 

Anduin looked out toward the calm waters of the sea, and then back to him, then to his hands. Impatiently, Varian tapped his foot onto the dock. 

“Fine. I can open a portal to Dalaran, so there’s no need for a mage. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Anduin stood on his toes and pecked his father’s cheek, opening a portal and stepping through before Varian could respond. The king merely chuckled and retrieved Anduin’s near-empty plate, returning to the keep. 

* * *

Anduin stepped out of the portal feeling slightly dizzy. He collected himself, rubbing his temples. Portal travel had always made him slightly sick with vertigo and nausea. The prince stumbled toward the edge of Krasus’ landing and quickly made his way down the streets of Dalaran, trying hard not to focus on the wondrous city as he hadn't been there before. 

Anduin shuffled around a gaggle of gnomes and goblins discussing their latest whiz-machine and approached the steps to the Violet Citadel. Just inside the palace, there were councilmen and women standing about discussing something hushed rather quickly and angrily. He stood there awkwardly for a minute before taking another few steps forward, gaining the attention of the _much_ _taller_ mages as they spread apart and formed a half-circle around the entrance to the next set of stairs. 

“Prince Anduin? What are you doing here?” A familiar voice called from the stairs, making him and the council look up toward him. The boy grinned instantaneously. He could hardly contain his excitement as his father’s oldest friend finally finished descending the stairs. The priest practically launched himself at him as the archmage caught him quickly. 

“Hello, Uncle Khadgar!” 

Khadgar, despite not being around much, was still a close friend of the family. He’d been in and out of his father’s life, but was there for his coronation, his wedding- even the day after Anduin’s birth, and from then on he’s just appeared in and out. Anduin didn’t resent him for that. He actually enjoyed the archmage’s company, and like Jaina, he too had resorted to calling the man ‘uncle’. He didn’t seem to mind. Khadgar shared the same affections, supporting his decision to become a priest in private, slipping him tomes that taught him the ways of the Light and even medicinal books meant for those wishing to become doctors of all things. Anduin appreciated it greatly. 

“What are you doing here? Seeing Jaina?” The boy pulled away and nodded.

“Father sent me to speak with her on some important matters that I’d rather not say here,” Anduin lowered his voice, eyes flickering to the councilman of the Kirin Tor who were still staring at him with slightly annoyed glances. Dalaran had become Khadgar’s sort of safe-house whenever he needed a break from all of his traveling, while also acting as a representative of the Kirin Tor while he was away. “Unfortunately, It’s not a social visit.”

“We were all very worried when Varian sent word of you missing on some uncharted isle. I’m glad to see that you’re still stubbornly kicking.” 

“It’s going to take more than a shipwreck to put me down.” Anduin said wryly, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms. 

“I’d think so, young prince. Now run along, I’m sure Jaina will be happy to see you. I’ll visit Stormwind soon!” The mage ruffled his hair before turning into his raven form and flying off quicker than Anduin could spin on his heel. Anduin grinned and jogged up the steps, finding his way toward Jaina’s office. As the leader of the Kirin Tor, she’d gotten quite the upgrade from her lovely tower in Theramore. It actually seemed cozier than the too-open nooks that refused to call his name. Something about Dalaran was just so wondrous Anduin didn’t think he could actually handle staying the night there for how overwhelming it was. Come to think of it, had his father ever done so? 

“Anduin? Anduin is that you?” The familiar soft voice he’d missed so much echoed from down the hallway and the boy turned his head around so fast you’d swear he’d gotten whiplash. Anduin beamed and made a beeline for the mage, her arms open and inviting, like the mother’s touch he’d felt so lonely without. He accepted her embrace without thought and buried his face into her shoulder. “Oh thank the Light… when Varian sent me that message, gods, I thought you’d been killed!” Jaina repeatedly kissed his hair, rubbing his back like she couldn’t believe he was real. “He said that a Horde fleet had chased  _ The Vanguard _ aground and that you’d been found missing from the wreck- hells, everyone was missing!” She pulled away slightly and cupped his cheeks, squeezing teasingly. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again! Your father, too. He nearly burst a vein when we had to stop him  _ multiple times _ from him going to look for you himself!”

Softly, Anduin faltered. “I’m sorry I scared you, auntie. It won’t happen again.” He huddled himself into her arms again and sighed, his eyes growing slightly wet. It was hard to hear how much everyone had worried for him, how much everyone had missed him. It was strange. He wasn’t used to people acknowledging that he even existed day by day in Stormwind. He was just always there, and then he wasn’t, and then everyone freaked out- according to his father. 

“Now, you can’t just be here to see me again otherwise you would have called me from the confines of your room with that mirror I gave you. What do you need?” She led him into her office and asked a passing servant for some vanilla chamomile tea and pastries for her guest. 

“Actually, father sent me to speak with you…” he mentally prepared himself for a lecture on behalf of his father, hunching in on himself as he leaned against her desk. 

“...and?” Jaina prompted when he took too long to finish, flourishing her hand as if to ask him to continue. Anduin grimaced. 

“He wanted me to talk to you about the Sunreavers pledging their loyalty to the Horde from within Dalaran.” Deciding to rip it off like a bandaid, Anduin waited tenuously for her response. Jaina did nothing but sigh and nod. 

“I figured he would want to speak with me about at some point.” She looked out toward her balcony just beyond the glass doors and then turned to open her mouth. 

Just then the servant she had spoken to before came in with a tray with two teacups, a kettle, sugar lumps, and a ceramic jar with honey. Next to it, there was a plate of what looked to be soft pastries that made Anduin’s mouth water. Jaina smiled as the woman set it down and grinned.

“Anythin’ else, my lady?”

“No thank you, Elissa, that will be all.” 

“Have a wonderful evening.” The middle-aged woman curtsied respectfully. She seemed to enjoy working for Jaina. 

“You as well.” Anduin dipped his head. 

Once the door had slipped shut and Anduin had fixed his tea, he waited for her to pick up again. 

“Here’s the thing about them claiming their fealty. I don’t  _ want _ to drive them out of Dalaran. This city is supposed to be a beacon of hope that we can all someday be above the war. Literally, and figuratively. We  _ must _ maintain this peace in order to get the Horde- not necessarily Garrosh- to see that one day the Alliance can broker peace with them. We can’t lose that light. Otherwise, there would be nothing but darkness. Does that make sense?” Anduin nodded. 

“I wanted to tell father that he was wasting his breath, but… he’s changed a lot. I think he knew that you would say no anyway.” 

“This has been a relatively short visit, but I can portal you directly back to the Landing. Why don’t you stay awhile and talk?” She gestured to the sofa in the corner of the room just out of the bright sun’s rays. “Tell me about your  _ adventures. _ I’ve heard plenty from Varian, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Anduin snorted. “What did you hear about, me mind-controlling the people who just wanted to take me home? Me being stupid? I’m sure father would tell you all about that.” He sat down with his tea and drank from it angrily. He knew he acted childishly and he wasn’t proud of it. 

“I did hear about that,” Jaina sat beside him and set her cup on the table, taking Anduin’s and doing the same. She clasped his hands in hers gently and drew his eyes away from the floor. “I’d really like to know why, if you’ll tell me.” 

Anduin lolled his head on the back of the sofa and let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. 

“I… I don’t know  _ how _ to say it,” the priest stressed, squeezing her hands before pulling away and folding his arms across his stomach. “I missed you all so much, I missed father so much, but… I was scared. I was scared that if I went back then I’d be taken home and I’d never be able to leave again.” 

“Isn’t that… a recurring theme? You’ve been away from home quite often in the last few years. Sparsely, of course, but whenever I’m in Stormwind you’ve seemed to be… dissociative.” Jaina appeared to be selecting her words carefully, hoping not to upset the poor boy. Anduin wondered how bad he looked for her to be sending such a sympathetic look toward him.

The prince sighed and drew his knees up, glaring down away from his aunt. He didn’t mean to make her question so much. Jaina had too many duties to be stuck worrying about her stupid nephew who made stupid decisions and didn’t know when to keep his stupid mouth shut.

“I’m too eager. Father just reins me in.” Anduin said, his jaw tight. Jaina’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and she pulled him to her chest. Anduin continued to look away from her. 

“Wanting to explore your kingdom and help others shouldn’t be bad. Varian knows that too. On the inside I’m sure that he loves your ‘eagerness’, he just fears for your safety. Have you two talked about this at all?” 

Inwardly, the prince rolled his eyes. Of course they hadn’t. The topic of conversation of Anduin being  _ afraid _ of his own-

No. It wasn’t the time to think about that. Frustrated, his response left his mouth too quickly.

“What would I say, ‘excuse me, father, but before I retire to my quarters do you think we could discuss the topic of your intense paranoia and incessant need to hound me whenever I wish to leave the front  _ gate?’”  _ Anduin ground out, words sharp and glare sharper. Jaina’s eyes softened as she placed her other hand onto his arm, squeezing his shoulders. 

“He loves you a lot, nephew. I’m sure if you talked to him about this then the ‘incessant hounding’ would cease… only slightly, if I know your father as well as I have, Anduin- Anduin, look at me. I’m serious,” Jaina took his chin and made him face her. He chewed on his lip nervously and rolled his head onto her shoulder. “Talk to him. It  _ will _ help. You won’t make the situation better just letting this going on.” Anduin sighed and hid from her kind gaze by squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face into her neck. She chuckled and brushed his wild blonde hair through with her fingers. 

“I’ll try, auntie. I promise.” 

* * *

Varian didn’t miss the troubled look on his son’s face when he reemerged from Jaina’s portal nearly three hours later. He was pale and he looked absolutely exhausted. Concerned, he decided to confront him about it after dinner in his private chambers. For now, he’d let him go and collect himself. But he definitely would make him talk later. Anduin holding stress was like a second mana bomb. He would practically vaporize himself keeping all of his anger and frustration in his head.

Varian busied himself by placing the files he’d been working on into their designated folder, more happenings and contracts to be approved from Stormwind would arrive the next morning and Varian, for once, decided to be prepared for it. 

In fact, he busied himself to the point of forgetting what Anduin actually went to Dalaran  _ for.  _ The warrior grunted in annoyance at his slight perceptiveness and put the folders back down onto his desk. It seems Anduin had forgotten to report to him as well. 

Confronting him after dinner would have to wait. He needed to know what Jaina’s response was. 

Having the Sunreavers claim fealty to Garrosh was terrifying enough, knowing that they could strike his people at any moment from anywhere didn’t stop the king’s nerves from being frazzled in anger and paranoia. Though he knew that Aethas himself despised Garrosh, fear and enough extortion could make people do anything. Especially to those with weak minds. 

Worst of all, it decreased the safety of his son, his heir to the crown and to the Alliance. It made him frustrated because he couldn’t keep the boy with him at all times, they were usually being pulled in two different directions, what with Anduin’s training and studies, Varian rarely saw him save for dinner time. Or, if they had a moment to breathe, Varian usually sought out his son. Most of the time he would be preoccupied, but Varian was content just watching him. 

When he approached the door, he barely had time to knock before Anduin had opened it prematurely. He looked a little surprised to see him, and opened the door further. 

“What is it, father?” Varian patted his shoulder and let himself into his son’s quarters. Neat and scarcely placed furniture was all that marred it, the only color coming from the two Alliance banners hanging in front of the window. It felt cold and empty. 

“I just remembered. Can you tell me what Jaina responded with?” Anduin sat down in the chair in front of a simple wooden desk, a few tomes stacked on top of each other, one laying open. Even away from home, he couldn’t stop himself from resuming his studies, was it? Velen wasn’t even here to guide him. Varian patiently waited for the boy to begin speaking, but he looked a little shaken. 

“She said that she wasn’t going to remove the Sunreavers from Dalaran because she wanted to keep hope alive instead of sparking more conflict. If Dalaran can stay above the war, then there’s hope that there won’t  _ be _ a war.” Anduin folded his hands in his lap and shrugged casually. Varian squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I figured that would be her response. I can’t blame her, no. I can’t, and I won’t,” He sighed, pulling out another chair from a side table, settling in front of his son. “But damn it did I want it to be different.” Anduin huffed and reached forward, tapping his hand. 

“I had an idea, though,” Varian looked up, nearly ready to pull his hair out, “what if you opened negotiations to the Sin'dorei? We know that they don’t actually like Garrosh or the Horde. Or, at least, I think so. Lord Lor’themar hadn’t ever expressed any outward adoration for them, but…” Anduin looked away as he chewed on the bottom of his lip, “if we can convince them to come back to the Alliance, maybe we could reforge the relationship that we used to have. They joined the Horde because we were too focused on the scourge and didn’t offer them any help. We can  _ fix _ that, though,” Anduin grinned, “and then we’ll have most of the control over the Eastern Kingdoms. It’s a perfect plan! No one has to die over this. Not unless Garrosh catches wind.” Varian felt pride swell in his chest. 

“Have you always been so clever?” 

“I got it from  _ someone,”  _ Anduin grinned, propping his feet on the seat of the chair, he curled forward to rest his arms on his knees, “but you need Valeera to send a message to Lord Lor’themar for secrecy. If Garrosh finds out, I don’t want to think about what could happen to them, or us,” He shuddered, folding his arms as his eyes returned to the ground. “We could put them all in terrible danger. What’s left of them, at least, and I’m sure Vereesa would be glad to help you.” He noticed that his fist clenched around his chest like he was grasping for something. 

_ Oh. The necklace.  _

“Where’s your mother’s locket?” 

“I…” Anduin gulped, “I thought I left it at home… but I can’t remember.” 

“No, you portaled with it on you. I remember you putting it on before you went to the Exodar. Could you have left it there? I could send a letter to Velen,” Anduin put his fist to his head and knocked it violently. Varian’s hand shot forward before Anduin could do it again. “Don’t do that!” His eyes were wide and his fingers were trembling. 

“What if it got lost when I wrecked? I didn’t even remember to check if I had it on,” unshed tears filled his eyes, “Light, it’s gone!” he buried his face in his hands and grabbed handfuls of his long blonde hair, tugging. Varian put his hands on his shoulders and knelt down in front of the boy, prying his hands out of his hair. 

“It’s okay, Anduin. We’ll find it. I swear we will,” he held his hands down in his lap, feeling them tense and twitch. “I’ll send word to Velen to check your quarters, and I’ll have someone investigate the wreck. Don’t worry. It can’t have gotten too far,” Varian grimaced as Anduin wiped the wetness from his eyes, streaking them an irritated red. “Now, go wash up for dinner. I’ll be there soon.” He leaned forward and kissed his forehead, turning and leaving the room. 

_ I forgot to ask him what was wrong.  _ Varian cursed himself mentally.  _ I don’t think the necklace is the brunt of it all…  _

* * *

Dinner was a little awkward. As great as his job as he was, Twinbraid was washed-up drunk, and Taylor had half a mind to throw him off the pier to sober him up. Light, he was in the presence of the  _ high king and the archmage.  _ Did he have no sense? Or did he just have a horrible day? Troteman looked over at him from where he was sitting adjacently and had a disgusted frown on his face. Twinbraids was describing a woman he’d attempted to… pursue… during his travels as a young lad, before he became a soldier. 

Anduin looked incredibly uncomfortable. He was sitting to the right of the man but left beside the king, who was at the head of the table, cutting his meat while glaring down at the plate. Anduin was picking at his food, flinching when Twinbraids raised his drink in conviction and slammed the mug back down on the table. A bit of the liquid splashed onto the table as the beer foamed and the prince’s mouth contorted into something displeased. 

As Twinbraid continued to regale the tall tales with the table, moving onto a dangerous all-cards-out fight with an orc the size of a mountain with a gnarled iron axe, Taylor saw it fit to remove him from dinner. He could tell that the king actually wanted to  _ speak,  _ but found it ridiculous to talk over a drunken dwarf. 

The Admiral snapped his fingers to the guards by the small dining quarters entrance. He pointed to the dwarf and then jerked his thumb, putting his hands together as to say ‘please’. The guards nodded and approached the dwarf, hefting him up by his armpits and lugging the resisting dwarf out of the hall. Jaina chuckled. 

“Bad day?” 

“My guess,” Varian answered, placing his fork back down. “Were you inspired by Anduin’s visit to come and see us?” Jaina was sitting next to the admiral, wearing a fragrance that Taylor would describe being an obnoxious mix of peace bloom and rose thorn. He wouldn’t say anything, but he wasn’t looking forward to smelling  _ that _ over the next few days. 

“Only slightly, and for that reason, I figured it would be best to come and talk to you in person rather than through your son.” 

“I had a few things to take care of and couldn’t come to Dalaran myself, I apologize.” Anduin raised his eyebrows and concealed a smirk, eyes flicking over to Taylor. A clear decline on that. Varian did have things to do, but most could have been passed on to him or Trotemen. No, he was simply terrible at negotiating with the woman, given their close history. Almost like siblings bickering, but with more danger. One could haul a giant sword and the other could pummel you with the arcane arts. 

“He had a proposition that he wanted to speak with you about, didn’t you, father?” Varian snapped up, glancing over at Anduin who made himself busy by shoving his fork in his mouth and looking down at the table. 

“Oh? What is it?” Jaina looked comically intrigued, a sly smirk on her face. Anduin hid his smile behind his wrist. She was amused, like she didn’t believe he had a good enough scheme to convince her. 

“I want to open up negotiations to bring the Sin'dorei back into the Alliance.” He said slowly, letting her catch every word as her jaw fell open. 

“You, Varian Wrynn, the least trigger happy fan of the Horde, wants to bring one of  _ their factions _ into the Alliance?!” Jaina exclaimed, pointing at him with her finger. She then turned it to Anduin. 

“This was your idea, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it!” Anduin looked away as if she had no idea what you were speaking of. 

“I may have  _ influenced _ it, but it wasn’t completely my idea…” he trailed off, hiding his snark behind his fist. Varian reached over and cuffed his ear. 

“Stop it. It’s no secret that only  _ you _ would make a plan like that. I’m not as optimistic as you are.” Varian grumbled, tugging on his ear again, softer. Anduin giggled and shrugged. 

“Fine, okay, it was, but it should work. It was our fault they left. We can make it right again. For the better part, it benefits us all.” 

“How so?” 

“Fewer resources for the Horde from their end, not that they could give much anyways. A more controlled territory of the continent. Aside from Lady Windrunner, of course. Our druids could help restore the Ghostlands, I’ve heard that the scourge there have been driven out, but the land is practically dead. Lady Whisperwind has some powerful people. I’m sure they’d appreciate it, considering it’s our fault we didn’t pay as much attention to them after the second war.”

“Do you think Windrunner would relent her hold over Lordaeron and would try to negotiate the forsaken, too? She’s never liked Theron, but… there’s a possibility. She was once part of the Alliance. She can be again.”

“As if our people would accept those monsters anyhow.” Varian said dismissively. 

“Father!” Anduin chastised, “those  _ monsters _ used to be the people of Lordaeron,  _ our  _ people. The majority of the Forsaken were once human! Families from that time still exist, right in Stormwind!” 

“They are no longer our people, Anduin, they’ve pledged their loyalty.” Varian concluded sternly, giving him a look that challenged the opposing argument.

“Where they had no  _ choice,”  _ The prince disagreed, “we refused to let them in! I understand that they’re not exactly the people they used to be, but they’re all still the same!” Taylor noted that he clutched at his chest again. He’d been doing that a lot recently. Didn’t a necklace use to be there? 

“As much as I’d hate to incur your wrath, your majesty, he’s right.” Troteman spoke up after being silent for so long, “the Forsaken used to be loyal men and women of the Alliance. And then we shut them out. Both out of fear and disgust, mainly sorrow. They don’t  _ look _ like they used to, but if we’d taken them in then they would still be who they are, right now. Back then, they were still as every bit of human as we were. They just look different.” 

Varian shook his head. “I’m done speaking about this. What’s done is done, and Windrunner absolutely abhors anyone alive. I doubt she would let her people follow. The Horde was the only place she could be…  _ safe…  _ anyhow…” He squinted like that made no sense, but it was perfectly clear. The rest of her family was either gone or with the Alliance. She didn’t really have anywhere else to go, and death wasn’t an option. Sylvanas did what she could to survive, and took the sentient scourge under her leadership, the Forsaken. Forsaken to return to their homes. Yet half of the populous that was her own lived under the very city most were purged in. 

“Anyways, maneuvering the Sin'dorei into the Alliance under secrecy is risky.  _ Very  _ risky, but Garrosh hasn’t been paying too much attention to them as of late. If you can open the negotiations quickly, I’m sure Lord Lor’themar will be more susceptible to re-joining his people under the Alliance banner. For what it’s worth, it’s a good plan,” Jaina finally agreed, settling back in her seat. “One most unexpected for  _ you _ of all people to follow through with, though.” 

“Hey. I’m not  _ that _ ignorant.”

“Yes, you are.” Anduin said, voice hushed. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” He responded quickly, shoulders spiking. 

“Oh, by the way, Varian,” Jaina reached over and tugged at the beard hairs on his chin, “I like the new addition.” She laughed as Varian waved her hand away. 

“So everyone’s been saying…” 

* * *

After dinner, Varian shuffled along to his study. He still had a few things to wrap up, and Jaina had returned to Dalaran just as it ended. Leftover papers from the latest farming contract from Elwynn, he could do them no problem. Anduin had scurried off only a few minutes after Jaina left, not saying much of anything, though Varian could tell he was still bothered, and that he was exhausted. The king wondered if he should confront him now, while they were unbothered by duty. 

He shut the door quietly to the room and turned, freezing. 

Anduin was hovered over the desk, staring down at one of the many empty bottles that he had stashed away. His face was hidden, and Varian had no idea how he was reacting to this. His posture tense, hands planted on either side of the bottle. 

Anduin stood up fully and folded his arms, holding himself. His brows upturned and mouth curved into a pained frown. Varian took a step forward, and the boy looked away.

“How long?” 

“Anduin-”

_ “How long?”  _ He stressed, voice wobbling as he turned his head to face him again. His chest was stuttering like he was having trouble breathing, but he was just trying to hold back tears like he always was. 

“I started again a few weeks after you disappeared,” He admitted, hanging his head. He promised Anduin he wouldn’t drink to cope. Whenever he did, he always ended up hurting someone he cared about. “I’m sorry, son.” 

“This is because of me?” 

“What?- no! No, no, gods, no!” Varian exclaimed, marching around the desk as he knelt in front of the boy. “This isn’t your fault, this is my fault. I  _ chose _ to do it!” 

“But I’m usually always there, and then I wasn’t… you must have felt awful.” 

“Anduin…” 

The prince’s face screwed up as he looked away, wiping his eyes angrily. Varian reached forward and placed his hands on his shoulders. 

“I promise, Anduin, I’ll stop.” 

“What if I’m gone again, for longer?” 

“I won’t start again. I… I only started because everyone kept saying that they couldn’t find you, and that you were most likely dead and I… I couldn’t handle it.” 

“I’m  _ sorry.”   _ Varian shook his head and squeezed his arms, heart aching. 

“Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.” Anduin lurched forward and pulled the king close, feeling a warm light envelop him. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry.” It broke his heart to hear him apologize like Varian’s drinking was  _ his _ fault. It wasn’t. It was a choice, and Varian made a choice to go against Anduin’s wishes. The boy cupped the back of his head and rubbed his back. He could hear his labored breath and held-back tears. Varian wrapped his arms around the boy and squeezed before he pulled away. 

“Anduin,” he cupped his face and forced him to look at the king. “Don’t ever say sorry for something that isn’t your fault.” He kept his voice quiet so that the boy would actually listen. Anduin sniffled and rubbed his eyes, looking at the floor. 

“I… I can’t  _ help it,”  _ He mumbled, “You said that you started when I was gone. It was about  _ me,  _ I wasn’t there to help you!” He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes and choked down his tears.

“You’re here to help me now. I haven’t drunk a drop ever since you appeared on the beach, those are all older bottles. Does that help?” Anduin sniffled again and shrugged, looking away. “It’s been a long day, son. Try to relax? You need to go to bed soon.” The boy nodded tersely and turned on his heel swiftly as he went to exit the study. The door was opened quickly, and a dwarf woman burst into the room.

“Your highness!” She panted, adjusting the goggles on her forehead, “The Sha that the Explorer’s League had contaminated has escaped! It’s spreading the infection on all the troops stationed at the Seventh Star!” The dwarf spoke as quickly as she could in between pants, obviously exhausted from the journey.

“What?” Varian reeled, “Quickly, gather the others. I’m sure that once we capture this thing, we’ll have to figure out what to do with it!” He ordered, his voice returning to its kingly tone. The woman nodded and turned around, her footsteps quick as they faded down the hallway. When Varian went to follow, Anduin’s hand on the middle of his chest plate stopped him gently. He turned a questioning eye down to him as Anduin gave him that  _ look.  _

_ Here it comes… _

“I’m going with you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! So many things happened in this chapter! Varian sent Anduin to Jaina about the Sunreavers! Anduin finally realized he lost his mother's precious locket! Varian's drinking secret got loose! What else could go wrong?!?!?!
> 
> The one good thing was the negotiations with the blood elves being openly talked about... if that really happened in-game I would have been super happy. The Quel'dorei had put their trust in the Alliance and sadly they failed them... but maybe the Sin'dorei can trust them again! After all, what says 'sorry' more than helping them escaping more than ONE vicious dictator?
> 
> Here's an extra-long 13-pager for ya since I've been gone nearly twenty-two days. Sorry about that! Are you excited that Paying Prices is back? It might update a little slower than this, but working on two projects always helps me so I don't get bored with one story. See you next chapter, and I hope you enjoyed!


	20. Swayed Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Circumstances lead to Varian deciding between two options. Use or abandon the annoyance blocking them from their greatest enemy.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to see you again, little brother!” Khantis raised his shield just as Anduin pushed another frenzied soldier back, trapping and cleansing him with the Light. The warrior caught the man as he fell forward, placing a metal-covered hand on his helmet. Anduin calmed him and helped him regain his balance, pointing to the exit. 

“This is as good as we’re going to get right now, I’m afraid,” The prince finally responded, rapping his knuckles on his bare shoulders. “Where’d you get the new set?”

“I saved an entire village, and they gave me new armor! Pretty good trade, if you ask me.” Anduin nodded, impressed. Khantis pushed him back slightly as a group of three infected stumbled towards them. Anduin prepared another shield as he began the cleansing ritual all over again. 

Thankfully they were almost done and most of the Seventh Legion managed to trap the infected in one area, making sure that the despair didn’t spread. Anduin was happy about that. Less chasing, more curing. He couldn’t be happier.

Well, nothing was happy  _ about _ the situation, these poor people didn’t deserve it, but he was just happy to help them-and, happy to put his training into some use. 

“Just a few left!” Anduin warned after their would-be assailants cleared their minds and ran off toward the temple doors. Khantis grinned as they leaped forward, the priest staying behind and guarding him with shields. The last group was hefty paladins, moaning and groaning as they stumbled around like zombies. Anduin began to cast on them immediately, the Light-wielders soaking up his magic like a sponge. They were cleansed without much problem, and were sent on their way in no time. 

Khantis brushed his hands off and pushed the prince back toward the temple doors, ruffling his hair. Anduin brushed him off. 

“Let’s go meet father up at the exchange. They’re waiting for us there.” Anduin slipped out the door turning and jogging up the stairs, the warrior just behind him. 

“Slow down! I’m in all plate!” The draenei complained, leaning half of his heavy weight on Anduin’s shoulder as he panted. Anduin chuckled, rolling his eyes as he shoved his arm off and entered the upper part of the temple. 

“Have the infected been cured?” Tyrande asked, her hands clasped together and brows furrowed with worry. Anduin smiled.

“They’re all being treated as we speak.” 

“Good. Thank you, your majesty.” Farseer Nobundo added, dipping his head. As a representative for the draenei, he had stepped into the conversation and so had Tinkmaster Overspark. Gelbin was busy regaining their foothold in Gnomeregan, and Velen was busy with his own people. Anduin sighed, folding his arms. He hadn’t felt his master’s presence since before he crashed. He was missing the bond they shared, and even then, it was still relatively new so Anduin wasn’t quite sure how it worked yet. 

“Do we know how this… Sha, you say, works?” Nobundo queried, looking toward the prince and his companion and then down to the large sha-corrupted gauntlet laying on the floor. Anduin walked over and shuffled close to his father’s bulky form. “I’ve only heard tales from passing adventurers.” 

“From what I’ve seen it’s like a parasite, but instead of physical it leaves mental and psychological damage. It’s… hard… to deal with.” Khantis placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly as the priest looked away, pressing his arms close to his chest. The feeling of such misery and despair… it was hard to even think about. He’d felt so weak and vulnerable that he opened himself to the void, and with it came the whispers of hatred and self-doubt that plundered him further into the pit of depression. 

“You’ve had personal experience with this ‘parasite’ as you call it?” Nobundo questioned further, looking quite concerned. Anduin felt his father peering down curiously at him. The prince returned his gaze to his elders and sighed. 

“During my stay at Chi-ji’s temple, I… happened to be there when the Sha demon had erupted from the basement.”

“Do you have any descriptions of how it actually affected you?” Overspark pressed, making Anduin cringe to remember the feeling. 

“It was different than what had affected our soldiers. Despair is quite popular within the Sha. It… makes you want to hurt yourself,” Anduin said lamely, clenching his fists against his arms, digging into the cloth. He couldn’t explain any further than the need to just not  _ exist _ at all. A deep, lurking depression pitted in your stomach like a rock. “But… from the soldiers, I felt so much more hatred and anger. This must be different. They were frenzied and violent, and those that had been exposed longer were sluggish. It must be the only kind of Sha that’s trying to deal a physical toll.” The priest concluded, lightly grazing his nails up and down his arm. Khantis’ hand squeezed again and let go and it was immediately replaced by his father’s gauntlet. 

He was tugged forcefully into his side when all of a sudden a dark, piercing scream burst from the gauntlet and began an uproar. 

Jaina had reached her hand out and shot ice, freezing the Sha in place on the floor. Everyone was up and armed, glancing around the room wildly for any more as Anduin studied the ugly Sha’s face. It’s maw was wide open, showing teeth that connected to its jaw in one large, strong bone. It looked like a deformed murloc with tentacles for legs hunched backward and leaning forward its arms as the mangled horns curled out of its head. The prince shuddered, clinging to his father’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Look at that thing…” Sky Admiral Rogers commented, her face twisting into a mix of disgust and curiosity. “It looks powerful. What if we used it against the Horde?” She stroked her chin. Genn peered down at it and the prince froze.

“Don’t go near it!” He barked, the worgen king’s ears flattening against his head as he took a step back. 

“King Varian, if I may?” Rogers asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow at the prince hovering over his arm. 

“Go on.” The king sighed. What plan had she come up with this time? 

“We can use this Sha to level the playing field with the Horde, they already have us at odds. Why not weaponize this?” She asked in a way that made it sound like she was accusing him of something. 

“I dunno’ about weaponizin’ it, but it wouldn’t hurt tae study it, I suppose,” Brann Bronzebeard cut in, a hand hovering over his hammer, “don’t like the way it’s lookin’ at me though.” He raised a bushy brow down at the gaping maw of the Sha. 

“Very interesting!” Overspark got close and crouched, tilting his head at the creature. “I could perhaps distill this… goopy creature… into a new power source!” Tyrande reeled. 

“This thing holds great darkness! Destroy it!” She stepped back, Nobundo nodding his head in agreement. 

“Only suffering can come from this if we do not kill it now.” 

With all of the bickering going on, Anduin hardly noticed his father turn his head down to him. The priest turned his head to look up at him, furrowing his brows. 

“What do you think, Anduin?” He asked once the quiet had settled over them. The prince glanced out at the other leader as his father’s hand tightened on his shoulder, telling him that it was okay to speak his mind. 

Anduin bit his lip, thinking for a moment. The prince folded his arms as he stared up at the Sha. Truly, if the power that it held would support the Alliance like Overspark and Rogers believed, then how long would it last? How long would it take to destroy them from the inside?

“Garrosh’s example is not one I care to follow,” he dug his nails into his arms, “I will not take anything I can find to use as a weapon, especially something as volatile as the Sha,” he met Roger’s gaze, the woman’s hatred and rage clear on her face and tense posture. “We may be able to turn this into a weapon, but how long will it take before it backfires and kills us all? How long will it take to corrupt our people? Not long. Not long at all,” Anduin shook his head. “If it nearly killed me in a matter of minutes, it will chew up the Alliance within days.” Rogers threw her hands up in frustration and scowled. 

He could feel his father’s grin and hid his own pleased smile, rubbing his mouth instead and looking at the ground. He was radiating pride… it felt exhilarating. 

“Well said, my son,” His warm hand left his shoulder, leaving it slightly cold as he unsheathed Shalamayne. “Horde or not, no matter how much we hate our enemies, we do not prey with something as unjust and as vile as this creature. This power is too dangerous, and we will have none of it!” He struck a mighty blow to the ice, shattering the creature into a million little pieces. 

“Wise choice.” Tyrande commented quietly, stepping on the piece of ice with her shoe as the others began to depart into their respective portals. 

Father turned to him and ruffled his hair. “Quite the diplomat, aren’t you? I thought Rogers was going to tear your eyes out.” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t here, otherwise she would have,” Anduin deadpanned, leaning back against the pillar. He frowned and looked at the ground. “Would you have considered using it?” He asked in a small voice, fidgeting with his hands. The warrior shook his head and smiled, bringing relief to Anduin’s mind. 

“At one point, I would have,” Father said wistfully, sounding somewhat remorseful, “I would have done it looking for the quickest and most brutal solution. But thankfully, I am no longer a fool and… that’s thanks to you.” Anduin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He clenched his fingers together and nodded. 

“Listen… Anduin… about before, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you weren’t blaming me, and that’s fine. But you don’t get to control how I feel.” Father looked ready to yell, but held his composure. 

“I just don’t want you to feel guilty.”

“I… I don’t.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“I’m serious. I don’t feel guilty. I was just upset because I couldn’t help you, and I always help you.” Father placed a hand down on his shoulder again Anduin shuffled on his feet awkwardly. 

“Next time, I’ll come to you when I feel like drinking my problems away. Fair?” 

Anduin winced. “Fair, but please, don’t phrase it like that.” 

Father chuckled and ruffled his hair again. “Fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! We're almost to the big bits! only six chapters away!!   
> (don't worry, I didn't forget about Tiffin's locket!)
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos <3<3


	21. Divine Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin accompanies the Sentinels into the Ruins of Korune to find and secure the Divine Bell.

“Hello, Sentinel Skyglaive?” Anduin peered into the tent, stationed tediously outside of Lion’s Landing but close enough to be considered part of it, Anduin held back the cloth as the night elf peered up at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“Your majesty? This is certainly a surprise. What do you need?” She stood back from her maps and dipped her head respectfully. Anduin repeated the motion and stepped fully into the tent.

“I heard that Garrosh was taking an… interest… in this artefact that you have found. I wondered if you needed a healer on your team to escort you and your sisters on your expedition?” The warrior actually seemed to be considering as she stepped back from her maps and placed her hands on her hips. Anduin clasped his hands together and gave her a small smile. “I do not mean to intrude, but if you are worried about father, he’s fine with it.” 

It was surprising, even to him, when his father had allowed him to join the Sentinels on their mission so long as they accepted his presence and did not deem him a liability. With a bow and arrow quiver strapped to his back, dressed in light mail under his Stormwind tabard, he looked battle-ready, hopefully not like a poor addition. He knew he could be useful if Skyglaive could give him the chance to be. 

He could defend himself, so he wouldn’t give her much to stress her with having a royal by her side. Anduin knew that though he hadn’t been in many battles, high-stress situations was what he was trained for. He survived under a broodmother, he could survive an expedition through harmless ruins. 

“Are you able to dodge traps? Move quickly, and quietly?”

Not so harmless ruins. 

Anduin nodded. “I can, yes.” He’d proved to himself that he could be nimble and slip through cracks like water. Training with Valeera had its perks, and its downfalls. He’d nearly broken his arm trying to follow her ‘special way’ into Stormwind Keep. From what he knew, she and Mathias were the only ones who truly knew how to infiltrate the keep. That was comforting to know because he had no recollection of any other infiltrations being less than direct either through a portal or straight through the front door. 

“You know how to use your bow well?”

“Yes, of course.” 

“I suppose there should be no problem, then. Your Light will work with our team greatly. Thank you for the offer. We’ll be departing as soon as our mounts are secure. Do you have a gryphon or a hippogryph to ride?”

“No, but I’m sure I’ll be able to borrow one.” He was confident that with Fennie’s word, Daggin would let him borrow a gryphon at the Landing. 

“Get to it, then. We’re leaving soon.” Anduin saluted playfully, the elf rolling her eyes with a smirk on her face. 

-

He never thought he’d be more awed by Pandaria with its consistent beauty and life. He could see the top of Kri’vess from here, just leveled with it despite how far it was on the horizon. He could see above the Serpent’s Spine, snow piled upon the battlements and dripping icicles shining under the sun. 

The cold air was making his skin red and burn slightly, tucking his limbs under his cloak as he ducked low under the gryphon’s head to block himself from the wind. Anduin swore that frost was growing on him. He tugged the neck of his cloak up to protect his nose, and looked over to see the others doing the same. He’d spent a lot of time in Ironforge and learned basic things to do to keep himself warm. Freezing hands? Stick em’ in your armpits. For real. Sweat insulates. It was pretty fascinating. 

“There! There’s the entrance!” Anduin peered up over the gryphon’s head, spotting the landing pad right in front of the entrance to the ruins. “Let’s head for the platform now!” Skyglaive steered her hippogryph downward and the rest followed, Anduin nearly turning his gryphon into a nosedive in its haste to get out of the cold. He landed roughly and clutched onto the saddle. The altitude was high and made it hard to breathe, forcing him to cough as he caught his breath. 

“Quickly now, inside!” Sarannah began to pull her hippogryph into the temple with them, and the rest of the Sentinels did the same. Anduin managed to coax his gryphon into the ruins while soothing him, ruffling his feathers gently. 

He’d requested to go with Sarannah because he’d heard about the Divine Bell and its power from the Lorewalkers inside of the Landing’s taverns. He heard that Garrosh was taking an interest in Pandaren artefacts from SI:7 and Tyrande’s scouts. That worried him because Garrosh only cared about war and violence and power. 

They stationed the gryphons in front of the platform with hundreds of three colored tiles of red, blue, and white. Anduin stroked his beak softly as he moved away, trusting the gryphon to stay put with the hippogryphs.

“Blue tiles only according to my research. The two other colors have either spears or fire.” Anduin figured he could guess which one was which. 

They leaped from blue tile to blue tile, the platforms so small even some of the Sentinels had a hard time keeping their immaculate grace when trying not to stumble off to a white tile or a red one. Anduin kept light on his toes and copied some of their movements, finding it easier to stay balanced when he tucked his hips and landed on the balls of his feet in a precise landing. 

“Around this platform should be the stairs! We will take either side and find the Dreadweaver.” Dreadweaver? What was that? Anduin nearly tripped over his own feet while he puzzled the conclusion. Was it some sort of enemy? He leaped onto the stuck-out concrete on a large statue and tip-toed the edge, keeping one hand on the wall while his arm stuck out for balance. 

“Only children have petite feet!” one of the sisters teased, leaping forward. Anduin blushed and stuck his tongue out at her. 

“He still has tiny feet for a human boy.” Another piped in, chuckling with her fellow warriors as Anduin stifled his sputters, pouting quietly. 

“Is this how you treat all of your healers?” He questioned jokingly, hopping off of the statue onto a blue tile and then onto the next platform before a set of stairs. 

“Just the ones that aren’t old enough to drink!” A rowdy warrior laughed and knocked their shoulders playfully. Anduin rolled his eyes and shook his head as he jogged to keep up with them. 

Down the stairs the atmosphere quickly became uneasy and Anduin was on guard quicker than he thought he could be, bow in hand with an arrow drew back only slightly within seconds due to his old reflexes. 

“The Dreadweaver is the spirit guarding the Bell. We must destroy him if we are to secure the artefact.” One sister leaned down to whispers as they descended onto the platform. 

“Ahh…” a strange crackling noise pushed a cacophony of shivers down Anduin’s spine. “Finally... the light… I can see the light! Centuries have passed but, I’ve kept the bell safe, master!” The dreadful spirit turned to face them, shock and horror crossing his face. Anduin drew the string back fully, unsure if the arrow would actually hit him or just fall through because he was a spirit. “Wait… you are not the Mogu!” He shouted, his talon-like fingers pulling back, forming a large sphere. A deep scowl twisting his ugly face and Anduin wrinkled his nose in disgust tensed, using a wordless shield spell to form a golden barrier to the front of the pack of Sentinels, moving with them and spreading it to cover the ranged attackers such as himself. 

The sphere crackled against the barrier, the repercussions of his spell affecting the caster, Anduin himself. He shrieked as his body was practically electrified by the miserable energy of the Sha, the pain taking hold of his body as he fought to keep the shield up. The warriors threw their glaives precisely and landed blows to the spirit’s ghastly form, their battle cries heard from across the chamber. 

“These ruins will be your grave!” Avartu shouted, blasting all of his power at the barrier. Anduin dropped his bow as he forced himself to keep the shields up, giving the Sentinels the advantage of the offensive. One of the archers stood directly in front of him, guarding him against singled blows as the prince channeled all of his energy into the barriers. Anduin squeezed his eyes shut and placed his palms flat against the floor, panting slightly as a bead of sweat dripped down his chin. He heard Avartu’s echoing scream as he wilted into a gooey mass onto the floor. Anduin grimaced in disgust and pushed himself up on trembling arms. Mass-shielding spells were still so difficult for him, shields taking up a large amount of area for a long amount of time was straining and painful, especially when trying to concentrate on keeping the barrier alive even as the damage it takes is retracted to you. Personal shields on individual bodies did not hurt at all, but a barrier defending more than one person in a fixed position? Better hope there’s someone nearby to protect you, or you’re done for. 

“Good work, Prince Anduin. Your shields are impeccable.” Anduin looked up to find Sarannah offering her hand, a kind smile on her angular face. The priest took it and nodded, dipping his head. 

“It was an honor to fight by your side, though, I didn’t expect it to be over so quickly.”

“Do you doubt our skills?” She raised a long eyebrow, and Anduin chuckled. 

“No, but I suppose I overestimated his.” He glanced over at the puddle of ectoplasm with a frown. Anduin then drew his gaze to the Divine Bell, a humongous, sacred artefact created by the Mogu to invoke discord and chaos, used to inspire Mogu warriors to fuel their anger and hatred and wear it like war paint in battle. 

“Let’s get to work, sisters! I’ll signal the mages, they’ll teleport here in no time.” She held out an amulet and whispered into it, the gem glowing within its silvery confines. In moments there were three mages in the chamber, and they were already performing their spells that drew a large teleportation circle underneath the bell with brightly illuminated runes. 

In a flash, the bell, along with the mages, were gone. Anduin sighed as the pressure released from his tense, sore muscles like a machine’s spring locks. 

“This feels too easy,” one Sentinel commented, her hand reaching for her glaive. “Your majesty, you should leave…” She said lowly, pushing Anduin behind her slightly as she eyed the entrance, pupilless eyes narrowing to a slit.

Just then a rage of red and black spilled down the stairs and Anduin was pushed further and further back, hidden behind one of the sister’s built forms. He peeked out from beside her arm and shrunk slightly. More orcs. Did Garrosh rid the other races of the Horde for ‘weakness’, too? 

“Your majesty, you must leave! We will hold them here! Do not worry for us, the mission is complete?” Light, is that all that mattered to these people- champions, soldiers, generals,  _ kings.  _

“Your lives aren’t below missions and objectives!” Anduin spoke back fervently, his chest stuttering in panic as the Horde soldiers formed a line of defense. “Even if I were to escape, how?”

“We will draw their attention to the right stairwell, you sneak up the left. If we are not out by the time you’ve gotten to the Landing, then send word of our demise.” Sarannah moved her arm back but kept her gaze forward, patting his arm. 

She whipped out her glaive faster than he could blink and raised it high above her head. 

“Sisters! Formation!” They fanned out into a v-line defense and Anduin crept to the side, taking cover behind a pillar, his gut wrenching painfully. What if they were slaughtered? What kind of prince left his people to die? Anduin clenched his tabard tightly in his fist and waited for an opening, swallowing the bile that threatened to pour from his throat. His own body was physically rejecting the thought of leaving them, but another part just wanted to do what they said and not get in the way. Light’s sake, he left his bow on the  _ ground.  _

He waited until enough Sentinels had emitted the charge and drew their focus to the right side of the chamber, wincing at the sound of clashing blades and bursting out of his cover to sprint up the stairs. He prayed no one saw him and kept running, the path of the blue tiles only partly memorized as he stared down at his feet, making sure to not step on any wrong tile. He nearly stepped into fire triggering the wrong plate and hastily curved his body to the side, popping his spine and nearly tearing one of the intercostal muscles of his upper torso just to not get flamed. 

He found his gryphon curled and bloodied but not dead and slid to his knees beside him, placing his hands just above the wound and letting the strength of the Light flow through him. Once healed, Anduin glanced out at the other mounts and found them not there… did they flee once they saw the Horde arriving? Why didn’t his gryphon go with them if that was the case? Was he injured first, or was he cornered?

Questions raced in his mind as the mounted the gryphon and tapped his heels against the footholds, clicking the gryphon up and off into the sky. He again ducked his head behind the gryphon’s to shield himself from the windchill, shivering but managing to console the frightened bird at the same time.

_ What matters is that the Bell is safe in Darnassus. The Horde… no, Garrosh won’t be able to misuse its power for evil.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all... almost there >:))))


	22. A Father's Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning from their expedition, Anduin rests uneasily. He overhears dreadful news and decides to take action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to be that person, but...
> 
> Comments are really appreciated to let me know if anything is wrong with the works or just straight-up writing critique you have for me. Regular comments and compliments, in general, keep this story going for me, and it's not like you have to! It's... it's just important to me. 
> 
> Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3<3<3<3

Varian’s footsteps were heavy and frantic against the stone floor as he paced, bare fingers tugging at the hair on his chin.  _ I really need to shave.  _ He frowned and returned his gaze toward the window, the setting sun incredibly bright in his eyes. His eyes narrowed as sunspots took his vision. Varian sighed and ignored the worried glances from Tyrande and Jaina, mind only thinking of his son. 

Anduin had come to him early in the morning before breakfast and requested to be allowed to travel with Tyrande’s sentinels to retrieve the Divine Bell. They received word that Garrosh was very interested in Mogu artefacts and knew that all of them had some sort of evil intentions. Garrosh only cared for power and destruction, and it angered Varian to no end. He wished for nothing more but to walk up to the insufferable orc and drive Shalamayne through his thick skull. Like he should have in Dalaran all those years ago.

As a father and a king, splitting the outcomes of that thought were both satisfying and infuriating. He always knew that his position of power was in danger due to his own issues with impatience and anger, and learning to discard those instinctual feelings that would arise in his chest was difficult to ignore. Carelessly tossing his rule aside in the face of vengeance would put him, the people of the Alliance, and most importantly, his son, in danger. 

To both of their surprise, he said yes to Anduin. He said yes like a fool and it had been almost eight hours since he left. Varian was concerned. Was the party okay, the Sentinels, were they ambushed, trapped? Was Anduin even safe? So many questions and yet, there was no proof otherwise. He was one moment away from going out to find them himself. He knew that Tyrande would be right beside him, watching out for her people like she always did and was always ready to defend them, no matter the cost. 

“Varian, you need to stop or you’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” Jaina took his elbow and made him stop, peering up at him with a worried gaze. “I’m confident that Skyglaive’s Sentinels are skilled warriors. Anduin will be  _ fine.”  _

Their heads whipped around as the door burst open, Taylor lightly panting as he held the door open to show the ending day behind him.

“They’ve returned!” His eyes were wide and wild, making Varian’s instinct lurch as he raced out the door and into the Landing. Taylor’s reaction made him nervous. Were they hurt, were they attacked, was Anduin  _ alive?  _ All regards were thrown out the window as he was lead toward a crashed gryphon and a team of wounded Sentinels. Anduin was knelt on the ground rubbing his head as the bird squirmed and squawked, cringing in pain. The prince had a hand on its leg, no doubt using the Light to ease its discomfort, but Varian was more worried if Anduin had a concussion. Daggin would be able to fix up his gryphon brand new with or without the Light’s help. 

Varian knelt beside his son and placed a hand on his shoulder, turning to face the Sentinels, leaning heavily on eachother.

“Is everyone alright?” 

“Our mission was successful, your majesty. We got the Bell away, but Sarannah… she told the prince to run first and… then she told us to go… she… she sacrificed herself for us.” The elf said shakily, hefting her friend up higher to lean more on her than by herself. Tyrande healed them quickly with a flash of her beautiful, silvery magic. The Sentinels then willed themselves to stand up straighter. 

“She’s dead?” Anduin asked quietly, face turning a ghastly pale color as he leaned into his father’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut after blinking them rapidly. His bow was gone and his quiver was devoid of any arrows, his whole appearance- the appearance of the Sentinels, completely ragged and exhausted. Tyrande looked down at him and tilted her head, sorrow gracing her gentle features. “Sarannah is dead?” He asked again disbelievingly. 

“Get some food and rest, you deserve it,” Varian spoke to the Sentinels just as the silently grieving High Priestess continued to heal others, slowly helping Anduin up as he stumbled, his eyes still shut tight. The gryphon was lifted up and lead away, limping on its back leg heavily. Anduin folded his arms tight across his chest, face turning a bit green. Varian stopped him from moving. “Is it the light or just moving that’s making you nauseous?”

Anduin groaned in response as Varian tucked part of his cloak around Anduin’s slim shoulders, the boy pulling part of it in front of his eyes to block out the sun.  _ So it’s both.  _ Varian worriedly lead him toward the Landing’s small keep, trying not to walk as fast with his long stride. The guards shifted warily at their posts, looking nervously to the prince and his father. 

He opened the door to Anduin’s quarters and whispered to a guard to bar any intrusions while he took care of the boy initially. He set Anduin down on the side of his bed and hurried over to the window to sweep the curtains, facing directly toward the sea and the setting sun. While it was nearing night, he didn’t want to cause his son any more discomfort. Not even the light of the moon would bear down upon his quarters. 

When Varian looked over at the small, keeled over form of his son, he nearly panicked. His shoulders were trembling and he was taking in deep breaths. Knowing that this could be a severe concussion, Varian walked over and helped him stand once more, moving him to the private bathroom off of his quarters, depositing him on the cold stone floor in front of the toilet. 

“If you need to throw up, do it in there,” he vaguely gestured towards the toilet, “I’m going to get you some medicine for the concussion. I know you have one, you’ve got all the symptoms. I’ll be back.” Varian unclasped his cloak and motioned for the boy to lean forward so he could wrap it around his shoulders. Concussions were nasty, and he knew them very well, his time as a gladiator serving him more experience in mild to severe wounds than he’d ever been prepared to know. He knew how to treat gashes and stab wounds and mend broken bones. But nothing was more easy to deal with, for him at least, then a concussion. The only question would be the potency of the medicine, how strongly it would affect Anduin. He was still an adolescent, and most of the medicines infirmieres carried on a campaign front would be too much for a young teenager to handle. 

He ran into Mishka wandering the keep and stopped right in front of her, noting humorously how convenient it was to see her at such a perfect moment. The draenei dipped her head in respect. 

“Your majesty. How may I serve?” 

“Does the infirmary carry any pain medication that’s catered toward young adults?” 

“Is the prince injured?” 

“I know a bad concussion when I see one.” He kept his words short. Anduin needed to be treated and rested in order to feel better. Mishka nodded and dug into different pouches on her belt. 

“Is he feeling nauseous?”

“He looked pretty green, I set him down in the bathroom just now.” Mishka handed him two clear vials with bright green liquid. 

“Make sure he has at least a week of bed rest, no strenuous activities, and to take it easy on the reading. He’ll need to let his brain recover fully before he hits the library again.” Varian chuckled and nodded. He already knew that, didn’t stop his master from making him fight anyway. Old bastard. 

“Thank you. I’m grateful I didn’t have to walk too far from him, at least.” Mishka smiled lightly and bowed before turning for the common rooms of the building. Happy he didn’t have to stray too far from the keep, Varian twisted on his heel and marched straight back down the halls to Anduin’s quarters, clutching the two fragile glass vials in his rough palms. He opened the door as quietly as he could and kept his movements light, knowing that Anduin’s head must be pretty sensitive to light, movement, and hearing. Concussions were just amplified migraines, but worse. Varian toed off his metal boots and turned to walk toward the private bathroom, but caught a faint sound in his ear.

The king wilted and winced as he heard Anduin retch and cough, light hiccups echoing off the walls. The king hurried forward and pushed the door open a little wider, finding Anduin hunched over the toilet bowl. He set the vials down on the floor beside him just out of any danger and gently pulled his long hair back, thankful it hadn’t gotten in his way when he went to expel the bile in his stomach. Throwing up… It wasn’t very nice. Anduin hated it, just like he absolutely abhorred being ill. He was always labeled bedridden for something as simple as a cold.

Well. They were always under  _ his _ direct order, but that was beside the point. He’d reach fevers that were too high and his body wouldn’t be able to handle the cold that always permeated the castle back home. So. Bedridden. For a reason. 

Varian tucked his bangs behind his ears and rubbed his back soothingly. Anduin groaned and spat into the toilet, leaning back into his arm and pillowing his head on his father’s shoulder. Varian turned back to the open doorway and tried to spot any pitchers of water on his desk or table, and saw a small tray that hadn’t been there before. A medium-sized glass pitcher with two glass cups. Varian sighed, thankful he wouldn’t have to leave again. 

“Come on.” He flushed the toilet and wrapped his cloak further around Anduin’s shoulders, leading him out of the bathroom and making him sit down on his bed. Anduin took his time removing his boots as Varian poured a glass of water and set it down on the nightstand before he returned to the bathroom to retrieve the vials. 

Varian stood in the doorway, fighting a laugh as Anduin clumsily unbuckled his armor, unsuccessful with completely removing it as it hung off of his slight frame. The king shook his head and set the vials down beside the glass and helped him be rid of the light mail over his leathers. 

Anduin hadn’t said a word since Varian brought him in, and it was worrying. He still had a devoid look on his face like he was in shock, a firm resolve with forlorn sorrow bubbling behind his eyes. His hands would clench and unclench around each other, squeezing until his skin turned white and then repeating the process. He nudged Anduin’s shoulder with his own before reaching over to grab the water. Varian clasped Anduin’s hands around the cup and he simply stared into it, as if he didn’t know why it was there. 

“Drink.” He urged simply, and that was really all it took before the prince had nearly choked down half of the water, startling him. Varian then took one of the vials and uncorked it, Anduin eyeing the liquid warily before he downed that as well. Whatever was bothering Anduin was heavier than Sarannah’s unfortunate death, but Varian knew that was the crux of it. 

Part of him wanted to demand that Anduin tell him what the hells had been wrong with him over the past few days, but the other forced him to leave the poor boy alone. The last thing he needed was to think too hard and overwhelm his mind. So, begrudgingly, instead of interrogating him, Varian helped him out of the confining leathers and tucked him into bed. He fished a bucket out of the tiny closet in the bathroom and set it beside the bed just in case Anduin felt the need to expel his stomach once more. Later, once he felt relatively okay, Varian would bring him something light to eat. 

They were lucky enough to be receiving food from the inns directly, but trade routes were being cut off and supplies weren’t reaching where they were supposed to. They’d have to start chowing on mess hall food… and the tastelessness was never pleasant to his cultured taste buds. He was sure Anduin would hate it more, but was also unsure if he would really care after having to live off of roots and raw fruits vegetables straight from the ground or trees, washed in river water. He was still slightly malnourished but his appetite was growing back steadily. Varian knew, disappointedly, that the concussion would send the recovery back even farther. 

“Try to rest up, if that one vial doesn’t work within the hour then take the other one. I’ll be back at dinner, and I’ll let the guards know not to let anyone disturb you unless it’s important… not that anyone would be, but just to be safe.” He added carefully, seeing Anduin’s glare at the implication that he wasn’t as important enough to be bothered. It was an insult, but he meant it wholeheartedly. He didn’t want the prince to be bothered with stressful matters alone, and instead, learn them from Varian himself. Besides, Anduin didn’t need to know about the warfront anyhow, so it was unlikely that he would be bothered in the first place. 

* * *

Anduin could hardly keep the dinner of overwhelmingly spiced chicken and seasoned vegetables. The flavors were too much for his stomach to handle, and he wasn’t even halfway through his plate before he pushed it away and leaned closer to the edge of the bed, feeling the jumpiness of his stomach and over-salivation of his mouth as a sign that he was going to vomit. He held a fist over his mouth and hunched into his knees, wincing against the strong candlelight. Anduin knew it was already strange, he was a growing teenager with a speedy metabolism, but at the moment, the foods he loved were absolutely disgusting. 

Anduin sat back against his headboard when his fighting organs decided to calm down against his brain’s will, sighing in relief. Light, he hated the feeling of throwing up. It was disgusting and it scratched up his throat raw with stomach acid. Whenever he did, and rarely so despite all the times he had been severely sick, he refused to talk in an effort to restore his vocal cords. 

_ One of the wonderful things about having a small room,  _ Anduin began in his head as he looked toward the slightly open window, pushed outward by his request that his father had so reluctantly obliged in an effort to breathe in some fresh air.  _ Is the fact that I can hear and see and yet be in my bed.  _ He laid back down and curled up facing the window. The overbearing light of the moon was covered by opaque, grey clouds, which brought comfort to his aching eyes. 

_ A whole week of bedrest just because I lost control of that poor gryphon.  _ He internally groaned in his mind, sinking into the soft, fluffed pillows. A whole  _ week.  _ Father told him that he wouldn’t be able to pick up a book until maybe two days into his recovery. While it was insufferably true that he was having vision problems… sometimes seeing double or triple of something that was obviously not and making any live person he was met with some three-headed monster. Earlier, he couldn’t even make out the features of his father’s face without squinting so hard he nearly popped a vein. 

Anduin began to settle into sleep, pulling the comforter up over his chin. Exhaustion pulled at his eyes despite the three-hour nap he’d taken only an hour beforehand. He’d felt so tired ever since he’d returned from the wilds into his father and the Alliance’s care, his body trying to recuperate from the harsh conditions of the untamed forests and bogs of Pandaria. Sometimes little aches and pulses would spring forth for a few hours, reminding him of the abuse he’d put himself through in the name of freedom to explore the land as he’d always wished to. 

Anduin was halfway to dreamland when a distant clatter frightened him from his thoughts, flinching violently into his sheets. He sat up slowly, rubbing his temple as he peered out toward the open window. Should he close it just to be safe? Would anyone try to come in during the night? Light, he sounded just as paranoid as his father. He stretched himself to look just a bit higher before he heard hushed voices rapidly speaking to one another. 

Anduin stood sluggishly from his bed and crept toward the window, peeking from behind the curtain down to the cobblestone streets. He let his hand stick out slightly to push the window open just a little farther, the hinges giving a rusty squeak of protest which definitely must have alerted the speakers to his presence. Anduin pressed himself close to the curtain and hid his frame behind it, hoping they wouldn’t see his figure. If he simply ducked down they would definitely see him, and then Anduin would be left without the information. 

To his surprise, they only paused for a moment before resuming, and the prince opened his ear to the open side of the window, straining to listen. 

“The Bell was stationed in Darnassus, but now it’s gone!” 

“How is this possible? It’s only been there since this afternoon!” 

“Apparently the Horde knew exactly where we would take it… but I don’t understand who would tell them…”

“You don’t think Sarannah…?” 

“I heard her speaking to the orc before we fled… but I… she couldn’t have!” 

Anduin concluded that it was the Sentinels he’d traveled with before, speaking about Sarannah… giving the location of the Divine Bell to the Horde? No… she couldn’t have. She  _ wouldn’t have.  _

Anduin stumbled away from the window as he fought to catch his breath, staring horrified down at his hands. The Divine Bell in the hands of Garrosh Hellscream. The exact artefact created by the Mogu from the maker’s flesh, imbued with the energies of the darkest shadows that could call shattering from the heavens, inducing the Horde with a god-like rage that the Alliance would never be able to face. Fear would be struck into their hearts like bullets, and they’d be decimated. Just like Theramore. 

There would never be peace.

All of that power in the hands of  _ Garrosh Hellscream.  _

Anduin covered his mouth and nose with his hands and tripped over his own feet, landing hard against the stone floor as he began to hyperventilate, his chest constricting further and further with each breath. His backside stung for a few minutes and distracted him slightly from the panic welling in his infuriatingly fast-beating heart. 

He pressed his hand tight against his chest in a hopefully non-futile praying to the Light, feeling his accelerated heart pounding against its cage. Slowly he felt the warmth seeping within him as his breathing evened, something Velen taught him after having a short-sighted attack that felt the same as this. He counted to five and held his breath for each second, struggling for only a few tries and then evening out. 

Anduin thought for a moment, his mind calmed and breaths even, his hand still plastered against the undershirt he still hadn’t bothered to change out of. If the Horde had only just received the Bell, then there was still time to find a way to counter its power. Perhaps the Pandaren found a way after they were freed from their enslavement. If this was true, then Anduin would need to find one of the ancient libraries that wandered Pandaria, one of the infamous Lorewalkers. He’d heard much about Lorewalker Cho and how he was a great aid into finding where Anduin was residing in the Jade Forest initially, but now they had a much greater problem, direr than they would ever face. 

If Garrosh decided to use the Divine Bell upon them, Anduin truly felt in his dreaded heart that it would pave the way to the man decimating all of Azeroth. 

He couldn’t let that happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's drawing near...


	23. Turtle Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorewalker Cho provides some very helpful information as Anduin marches closer to grasping victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if you can picture the accents in your head. I wrote the Gilnean accent like that on purpose, it's so bad it's good.

When Anduin had woken up that morning, it was to the sound of arguing in the distance. He’d dressed with haste, wanting to intervene before something drastic happened. The painfully familiar voices wracked his head which made him dizzy, and despite Mishka’s warnings to his father, Anduin decided that he wouldn’t be stuck with a week of bed rest. 

He began to heal the swollen bump on the back of his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the soft prodding of his bare fingers sparked white-hot pain. He winced as the Light nearly burned, using much of his already drained stamina to heal the damage to his brain quite quickly. The prince grimaced. Breakfast would be good to restore that lost energy, but hopefully, he wouldn’t walk into the common room to find the tables and chairs flipped by his enraged father. 

Rebounding his thoughts to the plan he made the night prior, Anduin urged the gears in his brain to rid their rust and start turning furiously. He continued down the hall and nodded to various personnel, the yelling getting louder the further he went towards what he considered his father’s private office, just a small outlet from the main meeting room that occupied most of the space in the small, quickly-constructed keep. The guards shifted near the entrance nervously and dipped their heads to the prince respectively as he swept by them. 

He pushed the heavy wooden door open and braced himself for more shouting to ring out, but he only heard the silence as he entered. Father eyed him warily as if he didn’t want him to be there, and Jaina didn’t acknowledge him at all. She stared hard at his father with a crazed, angered look in her eyes. Anduin shuddered even though the look was not meant for him. 

“I’ve pledged the Kirin Tor to the Alliance. Do what you will with that while I prepare us for war. Just don’t go soft on me, Varian.” Her voice was rigid and sharp and it made the prince pause. The Kirin Tor, a neutral faction, pledged to the Alliance? War? Why? What happened?

Jaina was gone in a flash and Anduin eyed his father warily. He looked troubled, with a hard line set to his face. His jaw was also shaved cleanly as well. 

“Got tired of the beard?” The prince questioned jestfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Father only smirked, but his frown resumed and Anduin folded his arms. “What happened?” He leaned back against the wall as his father scrubbed his face roughly despite the gloves. 

“Apparently the Sunreavers had a hand in stealing the Divine Bell from Darnassus.” He stated grimly, shaking his head in what Anduin would guess was disappointment. The priest sighed, the trembling in his hands returning when his eavesdropping had been confirmed. The Bell was stolen, and it was now in the hands of Garrosh. Did Sarannah truly give the location of the Divine Bell to the Horde party that ambushed them? Was it a rush judgement call? Did they force them to tell her? Did she die for nothing? Questions raced through his mind that Anduin nearly forgot his father was still in front of him, forgetting the grief for only moments. 

“So it was true… what did Jaina do when she found out?”

“She purged the entire city of the Sunreavers and broke the pact that the Alliance and the Sin’dorei made. We’ve got no chance of reconciliation with them anymore…” His brow lifted for a moment, considering his options. “Though I can say that still solved the problem we had.” Anduin was horrified, pushing himself off the wall hurriedly. 

“What does  _ purge _ mean exactly?” 

“You don’t need to worry about it, Anduin. It’s been taken care of. That’s that.” Father refuted stubbornly, frustrating Anduin further in his fears that Jaina had done something  _ very  _ wrong. Possibly violent. She was still unstable after Theramore, bouts of paranoia that could rival his father took over her. She was no longer the woman that inspired peace and stability into him. Jaina was becoming dangerous, and Anduin feared for her sanity. His aunt wasn’t someone he knew well any longer. She carried hatred upon her shoulders like she would a cloak, and hid her grief and sorrow well within it. 

“Father, please. Tell me. What did Jaina  _ do?”  _ He almost didn’t want the answer to that question, but it was important to him that he did. If his father felt that he couldn’t trust Anduin with such information, he wouldn’t know what to do. Father visibly fought with himself before he huffed deeply from his chest and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Trust me, Anduin. It’s better if you don’t know.” Anduin grit his teeth and gently moved out from his hand. If Father thought of him so little that he could not even involve him in political matters, then how much importance did the ‘purging’ of the Sunreavers pile on his father’s list of serious matters? Anduin vowed to find out what happened, one way or another. The truth wouldn’t evade him for long, even if his father was too stubborn to realize that he couldn’t shield Anduin from everything. He’d spent too much time hidden behind a cloak of the slaughtered, dripping with their sacrificed blood. He’d been struggling to escape that cloak for so long, Anduin felt as if he would drown in it. 

“I’m going to take Reverence out after breakfast if you don’t mind.” It wasn’t a request despite the way he worded it and the furrow in his father’s brow made it clear that he disapproved. 

“Anduin, you still have a concussion- speaking of, why are you-?”

“I healed it,” Anduin answered the question before he could finish it, “we don’t have time to wait on injuries when I’m perfectly capable of taking care of them myself.” he nearly regretted that statement the moment it fell from his lips, wincing as any sharp movement left him slightly dazed. He would definitely need to replenish his energy before he left, hopefully repairing the vertigo that wracked his brain whenever he moved. 

“Anduin, you know what Mishka said!” 

“Father, please. I’m alright now, and I’ve got to go if I don’t want to irritate Reverence further. I promised him a ride when I returned from the expedition.” Of course that was a lie, and he was terrible at lying, but he felt confident this time. Father searched his face for any inconsistencies and his frown became deeper. Anduin was nervous that he would be called out, tightening his hands around his arms as he matched his twin gaze. 

“Don’t go too far. Stay within sight of the lighthouse.” He concluded, and Anduin waited until he was outside the keep to release the relieved sigh he trapped in his chest, letting his tense shoulders drop as he shook his head. If he was going to find out where Lorewalker Cho was, he’d have to ask around. Heading for the canteen within the barracks would be his safest bet, and hopefully, some of the adventurers would be able to answer his questions. 

Anduin ignored the shuffling of the guard just outside the premise and squeezed by a large night elf, dressed in worn druidic robes. The canteen was fairly busy, bustling patrons despite the early morning. The sun was just above the trees when he’d woken up to his aunt’s shrill shouts and his father’s deep bellowing. 

When he walked into the open hall, there was a cacophony of greetings as various soldiers and champions and adventurers acknowledged his presence. 

“Good morning, Prince!” 

“Sleep well, your highness?” 

“How are ye, Prince Anduin?”

“I am well, thank you very much!” He replied with a bright grin and a small wave. It brought warmth to his heart whenever someone decided to give him the time from their day- granted, it was only a good morning, but it was important to him. Many of the wonderful men and women of the Alliance had good minds and strong hearts, Anduin mourned the loss of so many, especially Theramore, Southshore, and Lordaeron. 

He approached the keeper with a grin still plastered on his face. The older human chuckled and tossed him a ripe granny smith apple. Anduin caught it awkwardly and nodded to him. Not knowing how to speak to the adventurers directly without sounding strange or rude, he leaned against the bar and ducked his head slightly, apple still within his grasp. 

“Has anyone mentioned Lorewalker Cho recently? I’m looking for him and it’s crucial that I find him.” He kept his voice low so the keeper would have to hunch down in front of him from the opposite side of the bar. He scratched his cheek and looked to the ceiling, obviously thinking. 

“Worgen man, carryin’ a great big spear. One of them magic types, yeh’ know? Red eyes, ear a little torn. He was by the window just bout’ twen’y minutes ago.” Anduin nodded and took a bite of the apple, smiling. 

“Thank you!” 

“No problem, always happy to help the royal family!” He had a jolly grin on his face that radiated friendliness. 

Anduin turned on his heel and scanned the room for any worgen carrying any large swords on their backs. He found a few worgen, none of the description- one with two full ears and blue eyes but carrying two large daggers, another with green eyes that had largely a dark brown fur coat carrying a rather large rifle. He concluded that he must have already left, and decided that maybe searching nearby the barracks would be the next safest bet. If it was only twenty minutes, he couldn’t have left the Landing by then. 

He winced against the bright sun and took another bite of the sour-sweet apple, wiping the leftover juice from his chin. The base was actually quite busy this morning, dockworkers coming on and off of ships with a plethora of crates. Cargo ships unloaded and restocked and left, repeating that process. Lion’s Landing was turning out to be a popular harbor, Anduin had even heard of a few pirate crews stopping in for a few nights, causing a bit of a ruckus within the canteen and their excessive alcohol, and then departing. 

Just by the edge of the docks, he saw a worgen with a rather large spear on his back, wearing full plate except for for his digitigrade feet, speaking to a dwarf woman wearing armored robes. Anduin changed his direction as tossed the apple core into the grass. Once the woman saw him, she nudged her head in his direction to the worgen, and the… towering, _ hulking _ form of the wolf turned to face him. Anduin was intimidated by just his size alone, at least two and a half heads taller than him, the prince was forced to look up. No wonder he could heave around a polearm as tall as he was. 

“I’ll catch yeh later, Ed. I cannae’ wait to get this over with.” She added under her breath, heading further into the established harbor. Anduin gulped slightly, wondering if he asked his questions if he would be shoved aside or tossed into the ocean. 

“What do yeh’ need, yer’ highness?” His deep Gilnean accent and rumbling voice did not startle him. But it caused him to feel something twitch within himself, the pool of Light that resided in his chest was babbling like a toddler. Anduin opted to ignore it and steeled himself. 

“I was told that you had known the whereabouts of Lorewalker Cho.” He said simply, firming up his posture to appear at least a little bit professional. The worgen nodded somberly and dug out the rolled map attached to his belt. He spread it out and held it for the prince to see. Anduin leaned closer to his side to get a better look. He pointed a claw at a beach not far from the Landing and began to explain. 

“Dhis is Tur’le Beach, and the Lorewalkers from around Pandaria make a trip to dhis beach once a year to celebra’e Liu Lang. Cho should be ‘dere, I talked to ‘im just the other day an’ he mentioned that on dhis day, he’d go to duh’ celebration. Dhat is your best bet on findin’ ‘im,” Anduin nodded and tried his best to memorize the pathways, unsure if there would be signs built into light posts along the roads. The worgen, Ed, stood up straight again and rolled up the map, Anduin turning away again. He felt it again, rambling in his chest. He breathed deeply to force it to calm down so it would cause panic within him, and shut his eyes, meditating briefly. 

The Light in his chest was feeling playful and childish as it beat against the mental shields, seeming to want to expand further than his body. Anduin, confused, lowered the barriers slightly, and the Light spread forth like a fountain, overwhelming his body. He physically stumbled and his hands began to tremble with the excitement of it all. Large hands with sharp claws grabbed his elbow and helped him balance, hunching over slightly to peer down at his eyes. Anduin gasped as the contact between them strengthened the surge of his playful, wild spirit. The priest stared up at the worgen slowly, brows furrowed. 

Then it hit him.

“You’re a paladin?” He guessed as he regained control of the youthful spirit within him. The worgen shook his head. 

“I’m a trained priest.” Anduin tilted his head. 

“You’re in full plate though…?” He eyed the thick metal, his armor making him appear as a warrior rather than a priest. 

“I’m not flimsy an’ weak like you ‘umans. I ‘ave duh’ strength to wield a greatsword and I intend to use dhat to my full abili’y. Robes do not keep me safe, nor do dhey keep anyon’ else safe.” Anduin, fascinated, let a full grin sweep across his face. He had so many questions, like who had trained him, both paladins and priests, or was he fully trained by warriors? How did he use his healing effectively in battle? 

“That is… amazing!” He summoned all of his thoughts into a single word and clasped his hands together. He would have to ask Velen if he’d ever met someone like Ed before. “I’ve never tried to use my bow like that…” He thought for a moment. If he could master wordless spells, he wouldn’t even need to focus so hard on casting unless it was a multiple-person spell. Even then, Anduin was sure Velen would be able to teach him how. 

“Try it, pre’y useful in duh long run.” Anduin nodded. He managed to tear the Light away from Ed’s, raising his mental shields once more in an attempt to refocus himself. He’d never connected his Light without anyone but Velen before, so it was a new experience. He knew that he could connect with those who didn’t even practice the Light, it was just another way to be close to someone’s conscious and their emotions. Anduin hadn’t tried connecting with his father yet, but he knew it would be incredibly overwhelming with the amount of anger and paranoia that was bottled into that man. 

“Thank you very much, um, Ed!” He hesitated to say his name, unsure if the wolf would take offense. The other priest simply nodded and turned to go on his way. Anduin himself hurried toward the stables. 

* * *

Varian collapsed into the chair in the common room and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the oncoming heading to go away. Refusing to tell Anduin anything important usually ended in a heated argument, but this time, Anduin was less resistant to his attempt at protecting Anduin’s knowledge of the truth. He feared that if Anduin knew what Jaina had done, he would refuse to trust her- Light, he loved her like a  _ mother.  _ Would that change if Varian told him what happened? That his precious aunt Jaina had massacred the blood elves in an attempt to quell her rage toward Garrosh, the stolen Bell involving the Sunreavers gave her the perfect justification to do enough damage toward the Horde that wasn’t world-breaking or would cause another outright war. 

He knew that logically, Anduin’s forgiving nature was as strong as thorium. He wouldn’t give up on  _ anyone,  _ and that was an annoying trait of his that Varian was only partly proud of. Anduin inherited his strong and stubborn will from his father, no doubt.

So that meant that it was his fault the boy was such a hard-ass when it came to leaving him out of things- the, ‘I’m going to be king someday, you’d better involve me’ excuse had more credit than Varian would care to admit. 

So what was he going to do now? This attack toward the Sin’dorei by one of his own would most definitely veto the incursion of them back into the Alliance by Lor'themar’s hand. Honestly, he couldn’t blame the man for it either. He’d act the same way, maybe even worse- he’d retaliate with violence immediately. 

Thankfully, Lor’themar was… reluctant, but no less enraged with Jaina. He hadn’t decided to strike back immediately, but he definitely pulled out of the attempts to reimburse between them within hours. Varian was still on edge waiting for his retribution, and it was making him no less frustrated. 

Varian sunk further into the chair and let out a groan, rubbing his temples. 

He hoped Anduin didn’t get into any more trouble with that horse of his, otherwise, Varian wouldn’t be able to hold back his voice any longer. 

* * *

There was nothing that felt more free than the wind in his hair from the sweet breeze under the sun, Reverence pounding away and releasing all of his energy built up from feeding on his oats and the crunchy red apples that Anduin had been sneaking him from the barrels behind the canteen. He sat up straighter and kept his eyes out for a split off toward the beach Ed had shown him. A sign had told him that the direction of the beach was by Angler’s Wharf, a clan of tuskarr and pandaren on a fishlet island just off of the coast of Krasarang. Two of Azeroth’s most famous fishermen were apparently living there for the time being, he’d heard that from local chatter. Nat Pagle living with tuskarr and pandaren… Interesting! His adventures always seemed to take him far and wide… Anduin wondered what it truly felt like to be free with no burdens. 

Sometimes he wished he lived the life of a simple farmhand or fisherman. Ridiculous as it may be, he was curious. 

Anduin looked out from over a hill into a steep decline and found a rather large statue surrounded by various sized pandaren. He nudged Reverence with his knees to switch directions, and his companion caught on rather quickly and began to slow slightly as they approached the populated beach. 

The pandaren looked at him in surprise, most likely not having a human interrupt their celebrations before, but not chasing him away angrily with boiling hot tea kettles and fireworks. He slid off of the saddle and kept a tight hold on Reverence’s reins, his legs only slightly trembling. 

“Lorewalker Cho!” He called out, praying that he was actually there, despite it being almost the afternoon. One panda in the middle looked up with an easy grin on his face, approaching the prince with open arms. 

“Our neighbors! Hello, your highness, I did not think I would get to meet you in person!” The others behind him seemed to return to their business and give him and Cho their privacy. Anduin stroked Reverence’s neck mindlessly as he thought- he had no recollection of ever meeting the Lorewalker. How does he even know what he looked like? Anduin knew that a dream brew had helped them find him in the Jade Forest, but did Cho witness that vision too? Cho began to laugh, and it broke Anduin from his confused ramblings. 

“You must be wondering how I know you, yes?” Anduin nodded, “When our draenei friends came to me searching for you- I had them do tasks, one of them was to paint what they imagined for their future, and they painted you. It… wasn’t completely accurate, but I got the gist. And I figured the faithful prince would approach me in the near future!” Anduin chuckled softly. 

“So you were just guessing that it was me? There are a lot of blonde-haired blue-eyed humans, you know.” He tucked a stray lock behind his ears as Reverence sniffed at Cho’s shoulder like a dog. Anduin giggled quietly at his companion’s antics.

“I like to take chances!” Cho’s hearty laugh and friendly demeanor relaxed Anduin, no sense of danger or any evil intent rising in his chest. “So, what have you come to see me for, good prince?” 

Anduin paused and sighed, Reverence turning to nuzzle his shoulder instead. He returned to petting the side of his neck and compiled his words. 

“You know of the Divine Bell, yes?” He asked quietly, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. Cho frowned and nodded. “We… we heard that Garrosh Hellscream had taken an advanced interest in old Mogu artefact. He was going to go after the Divine Bell. You… obviously already know about that,” Cho confirmed it again. “We secured the Bell just yesterday… we thought. The Horde stole it from our allies’ home, and…” Anduin sighed, he was talking too much. “I need to find a way to counter its power before he corrupts us all.” He finished simply, brushing Reverence’s long hair out of his eyes. 

“This is not… not good,” Cho rubbed the back of his head, “there is only one counter to the Divine Bell that was created by us pandaren,” He explained quickly, stroking his chin. “The Harmonic Mallet was created to directly counter the Bell’s evil power. Sadly, it has not been seen in decades. The last who had it was the Monkey King, and he stole it as a prank. We have not seen it since, but he was last seen in the Tomb of Conquerors, which eventually became  _ his _ tomb.” Anduin’s eyes widened.

“He’s dead!?” Light, if he couldn’t find the mallet, they’d all be done for! Cho stuck his arms out and urged him to calm down, a weak grin crossing his face.

“He’s not dead  _ exactly.  _ He was fighting the Jade Warlord when they were both frozen in jade. They’ve been like that for forty years, now.” Anduin felt a spark of hope retake him, and he bowed deeply to the Lorewalker. 

“Thank you so much, Lorewalker Cho. You’ve possibly saved us all!” He turned and swung up onto Reverence’s back. 

“Just one thing, your highness?” Cho stopped him, patting his companion’s muzzle. “You’ll have to find a spell to release them from the jade,  _ both _ of them. The Tomb is west of Xuen’s temple. Good luck!” Anduin nodded with a grateful smile, the Lorewalker stepping out of the way as Anduin snapped the reins and the horse took off. 

* * *

“Have there been any changes?” Varian asked for the second time within the hour, causing Taylor to fight back the urge to groan and rub his temples. He could understand it, the paranoia of not knowing what was happening within Dalaran was frustrating, but Jaina would most likely give him the rundown despite her lingering anger with the Sin’dorei. Despite the silence of the Kirin Tor, it was clear that they had fully allied themselves with the Alliance under Jaina’s leadership. Most were probably unhappy about it. 

“No, your majesty. There haven’t been any changes, and I said I’ll let you know when there are,” He could hardly keep his voice from sounding irritated as Varian gave him an annoyed look from under his brow. “Shaw hasn’t received any new intel, and spying on our own is ridiculous.” 

“I don’t want them spying on the Kirin Tor. I want them spying on the city, I know the citizens could possibly plan a revolt out of fear and anger. The blood elves were part of their community.” Varian reinforced his point for the millionth time, kicking at the dirt as they watched the Landing go about its business. 

“They’re doing that too, but Shaw wants to watch the council as well. They’re suspicious in their own right.” 

“I know that, but I’d rather not step on their toes before we delve too far into this.” Varian sighed and folded his arms, massaging his forehead. Taylor returned his gaze to the recruits in the training yard, and groaned. 

“You have a shield in your hand! Use it!” The Admiral shouted angrily, clasping his hands behind his back. The soldier in question stiffened and raised his shield accordingly, effectively staggering his spar mate. Taylor rolled his eyes. “It’s almost like I didn’t put them through training. What do they do all day? Drink and chase livestock? Honestly.” Varian chuckled. 

“Never liked hiding behind shields. Maybe you should use that to your advantage. Give em’ claymores, see how they figure with those instead of a longsword if they enjoy staying open like that.” Taylor could hear the gruffness in his voice and decided not to argue, knowing that when he talked like  _ that,  _ disagreeing wasn’t an option. It was the kind of gruffness that only the prince would dare to argue with, because the only person Lo’gosh  _ wouldn’t _ hurt in a spat was his son. Maybe spit growls in his face, but Taylor had yet to see any evidence of physical violence between the king’s alternate persona and his child. 

“I’ll try that. Maybe then they’ll know how to use their shields right before they take an arm out during spars.” Taylor snorted, hearing Varian’s snarky bark of laughter behind him. At the same time, they both heard the telltale sign of Anduin’s monstrous companion galloping into the Landing. Taylor turned his head to see Anduin jump off of his back, the horse trotting faithfully behind him. Taylor watched his line of direction, and saw that it was toward the armory. 

“What is he doing?” Varian was alert, confused, and went to follow his son. Taylor was right behind him. Reverence whinnied at them and Taylor pat his flank, hanging back by the entrance as Varian approached his son retrieving his fixed bow from the blacksmith and a quiver full of arrows. His bow had been found from the Ruins of Korune when the Sentinels returned to retrieve their fallen, Sarannah Skyglaive. Taylor could tell that it was still bothering Tyrande, even Anduin. He seemed fine, but there was still grief behind his demeanor. 

Varian took hold of his shoulder once he’d fastened the bow around his torso and turned him around. Anduin raised an eyebrow at them. 

“You just went for a ride. Why are you carrying a weapon?” Anduin gave them a sheepish look as Reverence whinnied softly and nudged the boy’s head. 

“I went to find the Lorewalkers, actually. I found a way to counter the Divine Bell’s power should Garrosh decide to use it- which could be  _ soon.  _ So I’m going to find it- speaking of, Taylor, do you know anyone that specializes in jade statues? I have to unfreeze someone.” 

A little shocked, the Admiral responds reluctantly despite Varian’s seething glare. “We found a woman who turned people into Jade statues, but our champions managed to free them by defeating her. We don’t really know how to unfreeze them manually.” Anduin faltered for a moment and sighed. He pushed Varian’s hand off of his shoulder and swung himself up onto Reverence. 

“Well, I’ll just have to crack the shell and hope that they’re not completely jade, otherwise we’ll be stuck without knowing how to find the Harmonic Mallet.”

“Where are you going?” Taylor was surprised Varian didn’t drag him off the horse, though he could see his clenched fists’ twitching. 

“I’m going to Kun-lai, west of Xuen’s temple is the Tomb of Conquerors. That was the last known sighting of the King who had the mallet in the first place.” Varian sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“I’m going with you.”

“What?” Anduin asked.

_ “What?!”  _ Taylor shrieked, completely floored by the twos’ total lack of awareness and how  _ stupid _ they were. How stupid they were  _ together.  _

_ Must run in the family.  _

Varian pulled himself up onto the horse as well, Reverence seeming completely unbothered- not that Taylor was surprised.  _ That thing is a war machine _ . Anduin kept quiet but didn’t seem annoyed by the proposition, in fact, welcoming it; and Taylor resisted to dunk his head underwater and scream his lungs out. 

“I’ll let Twinbraid know that he’s in charge for however long you’re gone. Good luck, and I _swear_ if you two get killed I’m going to drag you up from your graves just to kick your asses back into them.” Anduin laughed while his father glared, equally matching Taylor’s fury. 

“I suppose that’s agreeable. Thank you, Admiral. We’ll be back… hopefully shortly.” Taylor nodded tersely and watched with scathing eyes as the two royals rode out of the harbor. 

“When they die I’m becoming the next High King. After all they put me through that’s the one reward I deserve.” Taylor mumbled angrily under his breath as he stormed back toward the barracks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know DAMN WELL I wouldn't write a bunch of filler 'he has a concussion for a week' bullSHIT he's a HEALER you know I ain't pullin that garbage on you!!   
> tbh...  
> I wouldn't have minded Taylor taking his place in the house of nobles... he deserves it. 
> 
> I'VE HIT 200 PAGES! WOOO!!! This chapter ended on page 204 but STILL! 
> 
> Also, do you guys like the way I've kind of... characterized the Light? I think it's really interesting to speculate how it works inside someone's body, kind of like your own little spirit that takes care of you. I'm gonna like writing more about it in the future, being able to connect to someone's conscious with the Light can actually be really really helpful for Anduin in the future. 
> 
> comments and kudos are incredibly appreciated <3<3<3<3<3<3


	24. The Rhyme and Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They unfreeze the Monkey King and find out what happened to the Mallet.

“Stay behind me, Anduin.” The prince rolled his eyes as he slid off of Reverence’s back, patting his cheek softly before following his father toward the Tomb. Its grand entrance was hardly intimidated Anduin- in fact, it spurred him on to waltz right through the arches and admire the space with jaw-dropping awe. Even though it was just a hall with stairs that led them down into the Tomb, he couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by the tough stonework etched into every pillar, every tile. 

He let himself run his fingertips against the intricate artwork carved into the walls, hardly hearing his father’s heavy footsteps behind him. He felt a cold plated hand on his shoulder tug him back into reality, and turned to face his father’s irritated glare. 

“I just told you to stay behind me!” The prince glowered and stood to the side. 

“Everything here is frozen in jade, father. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’ve never even  _ been _ here before. And neither have I. You can’t be reckless now, Anduin, not after everything you’ve gone through.”

Anduin steamed behind him, arms folded as he stared at the floor tiles. Sometimes his father could be unfair and assume the worst- he just wanted to  _ explore.  _ It wasn’t the end of the world, and he wasn’t blind. He knew that pandaren ruins were notorious for being trapped and rigged carefully but noticeably. Usually in obvious tiles on the floor that were different colors than the rest. Just how the tiles were grey here, the trapped ones could be a vastly different color.

Stupid design, really. 

Anduin sighed as they descended further down the stairs and into a large hall. He could see a line of white tiles not even three meters away from each other, and knew that it was some sort of trap erected by the Warlord to trap the Monkey King as the tiles looked fairly new despite the overall ancient feeling of the actual Tomb. Seeing that his father hadn’t noticed the sudden change and wasn’t aware of the trickery of pandaren ruins, Anduin rushed out and shot his arm in front of his torso preventing him from moving just as two jets of flame shot out so close to the surface of his face that Anduin quickly stumbled back, his father taking hold of his arm and tugging him close to him. 

“How’s that for reckless?” Anduin teased, wiping the quickly accumulating sweat off of his cheek. Father simply sighed and tugged on a singed part of his bangs. 

“Sorry, I’ll keep a better eye out. How do we get past this?” He turned back to the two strips a few meters apart from each other. “They’re too high to jump.” Anduin stared down at his hands for a moment and then raised his arms, pushing his palms out just as a barrier started to form around them. Father placed a hand on his back and urged them forward, making it easier for Anduin to concentrate on keeping the barrier strong and enduring the searing hot pain that raged across his hands. 

Barriers were finicky, no matter the type of damage they’d stay strong to the caster’s will, but even though they didn’t mitigate the damage it didn’t stop the pain from feeding through. It would leave him emotionally drained if the barrier was kept up in an onslaught too long, and Anduin surprised himself by keeping the barrier up under raging hot flames for longer than a minute. Once out of the stream, the barrier came down instantly and Anduin cradled his tingling, stinging hands to his chest. 

“Are you alright?” His father’s hand on his shoulder made him look up and attempt to smile, but from the look on his face, Anduin could guess it was only a pained grimace. 

“I’ll be fine after a few minutes.” Anduin willed his fingers to stop trembling as he tried to soothe the burning. His hands weren’t burning physically, but Light, Anduin thought they were  _ boiling.  _

They went through the various chambers, shivering under the stares of the frozen jade statues with their stuck-in-time menacing faces. They were occasionally random, too, Anduin thought he saw a yak lingering in the dark in the corner of one chamber. What was a yak doing there? He shook his head and continued onward. Just ahead there was a third open chamber with a large raised platform in the middle. On the platform were two figures stuck in a fixed position- facial expressions and all. 

Anduin didn’t know any incantations for jade-frozen figures, and decided that a simple spell to crack what he hoped was just a shell preserving the figures. On every statue they’d seen was still their normal colors underneath, giving away that they weren’t actually completely jade all the way through. That observation supported his theory. 

“I will have to unfreeze both of them, so,” He took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Be ready for a fight!” He felt the pressure building in his chest as he readied a bolt of holy fire forming between his hands, spiraling and then splitting into two bolts in which he aimed in the correct direction, hoping that it would strike them just enough to crack the jade and give them the room to awaken and free themselves. He felt the walls close in around his spell and in one jolt he released the bolts and let them fly directly into the Warlord and the King’s sides, the jade cracking and splitting and flaking like ice. 

Father readied his sword and bent his knees, Anduin casting a strong barrier onto his father’s body beforehand just to prepare for the incoming fight, concentrating hard to match his father’s volatile combat style. He fought with the ferocity and speed of a wolf but with the strength and calculation of a king. He wasn’t perfect, but he was enough to make Anduin frustrated when trying to bolster and protect him. Granted, they hadn’t fought together much, but a few was just enough- even while sparring- for Anduin to understand just how to handle him in a fight. 

The King sprung from his green prison first and leaped up and away from the platform with the gracefulness only a monkey could have, landing behind Anduin but not pressing for the attack to sweep the human away. 

The Warlord came next and let out a loud bellow, causing his father to tense as he planted his feet firmly to the stone and leaned on the balls of his feet, Shalamayne’s inner core glowing brightly. Anduin was torn between tearing his attention between the monkey behind him and the fight in front of him just as his father ducked a rather risky swing of the Warlord’s thick rectangular blade and swept at his shins. 

The Monkey King was large, taller than him and carrying a large bo-staff capped with a large glowing orange stone. He threw the staff into his long-fingered hand and laughed maniacally, beating his chest twice with his fist.

“Ahh, thank you, youngling! I am free! I am free!” Anduin flicked his gaze to the creature and then quickly returned to concentrating on his father. “Oh, another one! Hah! I shall help!” He leaped up again high into the chamber and landed on the Warlord’s back, the mogu’s enraged roaring beating against his eardrums. 

Anduin nearly panicked as his father’s leg was grasped from under him, the Warlord dangling him up in the air. He yelled for him and while trying desperately to keep the barrier strong, he reached his hand forward again, a string of Light flinging from his wrist like a rope as it wrapped around his father’s middle, forcibly tugging him from the Warlords grasp and flying toward Anduin while frantically waving his arms and legs in the air. Anduin tried to cast a slow-falling spell on him, but the king slammed full-force into the priest within seconds and Anduin found that he could not take in air. 

He regained his breath quicker than he’d expected too and gave a half shout as the Warlord’s sword came down upon them. The priest shot the barrier forward to cover the collapsed duo and the cleaver bounced off harmlessly. 

Anduin felt the power behind the swing surge through him as it knocked the breath out of him again, keeping the barrier up long enough for his father to regain his surroundings and finding himself completely covering the exhausted priest with his own body, much like a human shield. The king glanced over his shoulder and planted both hands on either side of Anduin’s head. He was leaning heavily on his right leg, trying to keep the weight off of his left. Anduin glanced down and saw the dented and crimped plate around his calf. 

He rationalized quickly that he could have a torn muscle or even a broken fibula, and managed to send a quick healing spell into his father to bring him some comfort despite the tense situation. Father helped him stand as Anduin’s barrier stayed strong and they observed the almost comical situation before them. 

The Monkey King had his legs wrapped around the Jade Warlord’s head, smacking him repeatedly with the heaviest part of his staff. The Warlord dropped his cleaver and stumbled around trying to regain his balance and throw the monkey off of his back. Anduin jumped away as the Warlord’s weapon smacked with a loud, echoing clang into the ground just beside them. The two rushed off to the sidelines, finding no opening to help the monkey- not like it seemed that he needed it anyways. 

“Are you alright?” Father asked hurriedly, grasping his wrist as he stumbled again and wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady the prince. 

“Just tired, that’s all. What happened to your leg?” His father grimaced and tapped his slightly crushed boot against the ground. 

“He squeezed a bit too hard, but that spell helped. I’ll just have to have the blacksmith look at it when we get back,” Anduin readjusted and leaned only part of his weight on his father and squeezed his hand, taking his wrist back. “Nice grab, by the way. When did you learn to do that?” 

“Let’s just say Velen was in a bind once and I panicked. He never formally taught me the spell.” He said vaguely, not wanting to remember the misadventures with his master currently while he wasn’t even there. Velen was too far away to really communicate through their bond, so Anduin didn’t even try to prod at him- but he knew that the Prophet knew he was thinking of him. 

The prince brought his attention back to the fight just as the Monkey King let out another crazy laugh, kicking the downed Warlord in the head. Anduin couldn’t see that he was bleeding anywhere… but he frowned disgustedly and shuddered at the denting on his cranium. He was definitely dead alright. The monkey tapped his staff against the ground and reattached it to the strap around his torso. 

“Ahh… free once more! I must thank you again, little wikket, and you! Big wikket! You fought well, but the Warlord is just a little too prone to shaking tiny things around like dolls. Do not feel bad, I have taken care of it!” Father raised an eyebrow and nodded, refusing to acknowledge his jestful ramblings and overly-friendly demeanor. “What can I do to repay you, my friends?” he had a cheeky grin showing off his sharp canines. 

“You can start by telling us where the Harmonic Mallet is.” Anduin planted his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. The King laughed a bit nervously and rubbed his neck. 

“How do I know that I can trust you with its power?” He asked cautiously and leaned down into Anduin’s face. The prince leaned away and pursed his lips. 

“The Divine Bell has been stolen by Garrosh Hellscream- a  _ warmonger _ who wishes to rule over Pandaria and the entirety of Azeroth. We don’t have time for games!” Father butt in sharply, practically growling in the monkey’s face, he then gives Anduin a scathing look that says, ‘hurry this up, or I won’t be held responsible for bodily harm’. The prince then gives the monkey an expectant look. The Monkey King puckered his thin lips and then frowned, stroking his chin in thought. 

He then turned to the prince and the king and sat on his rump, crisscrossing his legs. 

“There was once a jibby nib mallet all shiny and divine,” He started, waving his hands about, “but the ookin' bell it was meant for could never be mine. The mogu had stolen the bell, what is a hozen to do?” He shrugged nonchalantly, “think of the horror if those dookers stole the mallet too! Mogu are not bright, they fail to see things for what they are. The Monkey King broke the mallet and sent the pieces afar,” he spread his hands out like he was viewing a map, “my hozen took the pieces and scattered them across the lands, Disguised as "nifty nibs", never to fall into mogu hands. The head, the handle, these two must be made as one. Combined with evil's ointment, the bell's evil can be undone,” He pointed at Anduin, “if “Garrosh” has the bell there is only one thing to do. I'll send for my hozen friends, the mallet must be made anew.”

“Rhyming nonsense. What is he saying?” Father demanded and folded his arms, but Anduin nodded, understanding the story. 

“To prevent the mogu from using the Divine Bell, he stole the mallet, dismantled it and hid it to prevent them from finding it. We have to find the pieces if we’re going to stop Garrosh from using the bell.” Anduin explained shortly and the Monkey stood up, hands on his belt as he nodded. 

“Very well,” Father pushed Anduin behind him slightly. “Tell us where your hozen hid the parts.” 

The Monkey King grinned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer!!! Two chapters!!!
> 
> I'm so bad at writing combat scenes... I hope this was acceptable! <3<3<3<3<3  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> Also, for anyone wondering- when I'm writing from 3rd person Anduin POV I write Varian's name as 'father' because... I'm not writing from Varian's point of view, and Anduin using his father's name would just be weird... I find it weird ((but not dumb or bad)) that when a son or daughter in 3pov their parents are labeled by their actual names. I mean, I guess if they're not established characters, but we all know who Varian is, so it's not a hard distinction for who Anduin's father is at this point. 
> 
> comments and kudos incredibly appreciated!! (I know I don't reply all the time I'm sorry D:)


	25. The Mallet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though they believe they are unhurried, the scramble to put the Harmonic Mallet back together is stressing the King and his child. 
> 
> They will not like the rest of the night.

“There once was a chief named Ingoo Ingoo, who beat me in a drink drink boogaloo,”

“He took the mallet’s handle for winning, not knowing you can’t beat the King in drinking,” 

“Monkey King had to hide the mallet from the bell, but Ingoo’s children do not use the handle well,”

“Over the years they have used the handle to do harm, now we must find the current chief to disarm,”

“Go south to Unga Ingoo, Monkey King meet you there, only wikkets show to a party with hands bare.” 

* * *

“I’m so glad he didn’t ask for a ride, I think I’d actually kill him.” 

“Father, _please_ , for Light's sake, stop threatening bodily harm to people who want to help us.” Anduin’s voice was sincere and yet almost toneless as he clung tight to the reins as Reverence sped down toward the road back into the Krasarang Wilds. The Monkey King was trailing on quite happily behind them, perfectly capable of running long miles without getting tired after so much pent up energy being trapped in jade for decades. 

According to the King, Unga Ingoo was an island just at the edge of the Nayeli Lagoon, where most of the fishers that came to Pandaria lingered when visiting the continent. Anduin was still figuring out how to actually get to the island. Reverence could swim, but Anduin wasn’t about to make him swim six miles off-shore in  _ seawater. _ Horses weren’t meant to be in seawater, and it would most likely hurt his skin. 

They managed to reach the coast rather quickly and Anduin was troubled. He didn’t quite know how they were going to reach the other side of the lagoon. 

“Jaina taught you recreational ice magic, right? To do simple things. Can’t you freeze a path?” Anduin shook his head and reached his hand out and tried to freeze the wave, the ice melting away immediately. 

“Seawater can’t freeze.” 

The Monkey King ho-hummed beside them and looked out toward the goal island. He pointed to the side of the lagoon, and Anduin noticed something.

“The water around nearest to the islands is shallow. We will be able to travel through fast, and your four-legged wikket will be unharmed!” The King went to slap Reverence’s flank friendly-like, but the horse moved his legs out of the way and turned to huff in his face like a dog baring its teeth. 

“Thank you, your majesty,” Anduin said calmly and stroked the horse’s neck, calming him rather quickly. “We should move quickly, we don’t have much time!” He snapped the reins again and Reverence took off, splashing into the water rambunctiously. Anduin squeezed his eyes shut as a wash of seaspray ran over him. He wiped his eyes from the salt and kept the horse pushing forward through the gentle waves and forceful breeze. 

The island just ahead, the largest one on the opposite side of the continent, was sparsely populated and yet- it didn’t stop the intimidation. He saw small huts and a large bonfire with small figures spotted about the island and slowed Reverence slightly. He stopped the horse fully on the shores of the island and swung off, boots completely drenched as they landed in the water. He grimaced at the squish in his boots and wet socks and led Reverence carefully onto the land as the King bounded in beside him. 

“Ingoo’s family forget what the rod is for, the poor wikket will corrupt his own people, very sad…” The King crooned and approached the other hozen. Reverence lingered by the shore, huffing nervously and shaking his hooves of sand. Father pushed Anduin behind him, the boy rolling his eyes as he stuck close to his side, staring intently around the camp with great curiosity. He’d never been inside of a hozen encampment before, and wondered briefly if all of them had the same type of architecture. 

“Who you wikkets come to take our camp?!” One screeched and Father took a startled step back, blocking Anduin with his arm. 

“Calm, friend, calm!” Light, listening to them communicate was like having a stroke, “We come to speak with Chief Ingoo Ingoo! Tell him that Monkey King come for propositions and booze!” The King opened his arms as if to placate the other hozen shoving a spear in his face. Anduin, nervously, began to cast a barrier upon him when it seemed as if the offender wouldn’t back down. 

“Monkey King?! You are no Monkey King!” A new, deeper yet still shrill voice spoke up from further in the camp. A hozen as large as the King was lazing beside a fire, chewing on the leg of some poor, charred animal. He gestured for them to come closer and leaned up from his uncomfortable hunched position that made Anduin’s back hurt just by looking at him. 

“Hello, Chief Ingoo Ingoo! I came here many years ago and gifted your father’s father’s father the handle in good graces for beating me in game of drink. Now, it is a time of great peril, and we require the handle for good.” The chieftain snorted and took the handle from his belt, waving it above the fire. He then jabbed it in their direction, and Anduin wondered if it even mattered that they were there. 

“You not real Monkey King!” He smacked the handle against the stones of the bonfire. “No hozen live that long- we been given handle long, long ago!” Anduin cringed at the lack of speech mannerisms, hardly understanding what he was saying in favor of staying out of the way of flying spittle. Did the hozen have their own language? He could infer so with the strange words of ‘wikket’ and ‘ooker’. They must mean something to them, all Anduin could think to translate was that ‘wikket’ was regarding someone and ‘ooker’ was an insult. ‘Wikket’ was widely used even in a friendly matter. 

“Ingoo Ingoo destroy Monkey King imposter! Ingoo destroy his fleshy friends!” Within a flash Anduin had cast a barrier on all three of them, ducking out to the side and making sure Father had enough room to move freely without worry about Anduin getting in the way. 

With three against one the fight was in their favor, the Chieftain’s subjects staring on, ready to pounce at his command, though the hozen stayed stubbornly strong in his desire to be the strongest of his tribe. Father landed a hard slash to the hozen’s exposed side just as the Monkey King smacked him over the head with his staff, sending the Chieftain face-first to the ground. Anduin winced as his blood spread and stained the sand. The Monkey King picked up the mallet’s handle from his limp hand and inspected it, wiping the blood off of it with his palm and washing that off in a basin full of water. 

When they rode off back into the shallow bits of the lagoon, Anduin tried hard not to look back at their disturbed, enraged faces.

* * *

“Monkey King recieve word on where to find the head! The hozen who got it has long since been dead,”

“Kunzen chiefs pass the relic from father to son, but then the virmen Skiggit came and the head it won…”

“Now the wikket worships it in a hollow since it was too ookin’ big for him to swallow,” 

“I sent a royal finder north to find him and stand, look for finder in mountains west of the Heartland.”

* * *

As much as he tried to enjoy the time with his son, Varian couldn’t help but feel the unmistakable dread behind their urgent traveling. Anduin hadn’t made any sounds other than the occasional spoken word, but the usual excitement and curiosity was deflating the closer and closer they got to their goal. His face became a mix of confusion and fear most of the time, and Varian loathed to admit that he truly missed Anduin acting like a child. The energetic, happy child instead of this solemn, depressed teenager. He didn’t get to see much of Anduin’s younger years for the few times he felt conscious during them, always with Bolvar or sticking to Wyll’s side like glue. 

Varian sighed as Reverence slowed again, trotting around a farming caravan. The agricultural trade in the Valley had skyrocketed, catching traders in their own port every few days or so exporting goods with their own merchants. Good for business on both sides, and he was glad to see it. 

Varian rested his hands on his thighs and rested his chin on Anduin’s head, glaring out at the late afternoon sun. He knew that they were running out of time to do this- not that there was a rush, though it felt like there was an invisible deadline. They were out to find a hollow hole with vermin in it. Those rabbit-rat hybrid things that were way too large for Varian’s liking. Supposedly the mallet head would be there according to the ‘royal finder’, who would be waiting for them in the mountains. Varian honestly thought the whole ‘Monkey King’ business was just folly and distraction, but so far, he hadn’t led them astray, and from Anduin’s short explanation, he was the friend to the last Emperor of Pandaria. 

Said prince leaned back into his chest and sighed, Varian hearing the pout from above him. He yawned immediately after and held the reins loosely while Varian took them instead. Once Reverence was fully around the caravan, he began to move quickly again, heading for a dirt path that lead up toward the mountainside. 

“I’m so tired…” Anduin’s complaint was quiet, but Varian couldn’t blame him. He was exhausted as well. All of the fighting and travelling was taking a toll on them, and the king could feel his stomach growling. No doubt that Anduin was hungrier. But they couldn’t really stop to do much of anything until they found the pieces to the mallet. 

In the distance, far up the hillside, Varian could see a small monkey with white fur waving at them frantically. Varian spurred Reverence on with a poke of his dented boot and stopped right beside the monkey, shaking Anduin slightly. The prince snapped awake and slid off of the horse immediately, leaning on his side for only a minute before he regained his composure and turned to join his father. Reverence stood close behind the prince in case he decided to sleep where he stood, but the priest seemed to appear wide awake again. 

“Skiggit inside! Mallet head on cave roof! Many vermin!” The hozen said quickly and quietly, pointing to a cave entrance not far from where they were standing. Varian unsheathed Shalamayne, fully prepared to charge into the cave and lay waste to the puny vermin. Anduin took hold of his elbow and held up a hand for him to follow the prince instead. Hesitant, Varian stepped into place behind him. 

They crouched by the cave entrance and Anduin leaned slightly on the cave wall, holding out his hand in front of him with his eyes wide open as he stared  _ directly _ at the largest vermin in the middle. That must have been Skiggit. He wore a large leather headpiece and had bright red eyes with white fur. Varian ducked behind the boy and placed a hand on his back, fully keeping out of the vermin’s sight if his guess to what Anduin was doing was correct.

He could hear tiny patters and then large foot thumps against the grown, slow, rhythmic, and methodical. Varian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Mind control. On too-big rats. 

Well, it was their easiest solution. 

The large vermin dropped the head of the mallet just outside the cave entrance and Anduin forced him back into the cave just far enough for them to scoop up the head and book it for their companions. Anduin was stumbling along behind him, nearly tripping into the grass. The hozen gave them a strange look and nodded to them just as he began to bound down the hillside. Varian clipped the head of the mallet to his belt and hefted himself up onto the horse, closer to the front so Anduin could enjoy a leisurely ride napping on his back. He seemed to understand quickly and climbed up slower than usual onto his companion’s back. He wrapped his arms around Varian’s waist quickly and he could feel the prince fall asleep faster than he could blink.

* * *

“Legends are not born, they are made. Much like your next target, a mogu namd “The Blade,”

“In his bags you will find an ointment whose sound plays with the mind,” 

“Bring this nibby ointment to the Monkey King! With it, he shall make the mallet sing!” 

“Travel north along the wall and when you reach the end turn left.”

* * *

‘The Wall’, in reference to the Serpent’s Spine that surrounded the borders of the Eternal Blossoms made the directions easier to follow. He had a handy compass tucked in his pouch and using it once or twice didn’t hurt to double check his direction to make sure that fighting this “Blade” in the dark would be worth it. The mogu, to his understanding, were strong- but mortal. 

He knew Anduin was too tired to even attempt any more barriers and healing, the onslaught from the Warlord- the traps, the Chieftain… now this? He wouldn’t be able to protect Varian from a pebble. He needed to rest and recuperate, the prince wouldn’t be strong again until he’d recovered fully from his excursion across the continent. 

The only thing left for Varian to do to make this fight short was to assassinate The Blade and hope for the best. He was most likely in a mogu encampment, and killing one of the important guys usually caught the attention first and foremost. If he was going to do this, he’d need to scout first and keep Anduin hidden. 

He saw the camp from half a mile away and opted to make Reverence lay down behind a large cliff face, one hill away from the camp. The horse knelt on the ground and Varian dragged Anduin, still asleep surprisingly, onto the ground beside him. He couldn’t just disappear, though, he’d need to tell his son that he’d be taking care of the final target. The warrior shook his shoulder softly, and Anduin blinked a few times before looking up at him sluggishly. 

He then shot up a moment later looking panicked, hands glowing and ready, but Varian calmed him before he could do anything. 

“It’s alright, just rest. You’re drained, Anduin, I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to take care of the next order myself.” The prince shook his head quickly. 

“No, I’m fine now. I just needed to-”

“You mind controlled an entire  _ den _ of stupid rats just to keep them off of our tail. You need to rest and clear your mind. Meditate, sleep, whatever the hell you need to do. Just know that I’ve got this next one.” 

Too exhausted to argue, Anduin nodded and curled up against Reverence. He gave one of those pleading ‘please stay alive for my health’s sake’ looks to his father and it made the king cringe slightly. Varian gave the warhorse an expectant look and he whinnied disinterestedly as he rested his jaw against the boy curled against him. From the looks of it, it wasn’t the first time the two had slept together. 

“Keep an eye out incase we need a quick exit, alright?” 

Reverence snorted softly and reared his head. 

Varian marched off toward the camp and kept himself low as he approached, scanning half of the camp from the open, exposed side toward the mountains. The King described The Blade as a mogu in incredibly dark armor carrying a cleaver dripping with sha-infused ointment that used to be for the Harmonic Mallet. Though it was dark, Varian could tell the difference between the mogu quite clearly. Most were wearing lighter colored armor or less, but the king spotted his target quite quickly with how fast he stood out. 

Varian slid out from his hiding spot, careful not to make excessive, noticeable noise with his heavy armor as he crept toward The Blade’s tent. He was on an isolated side of the camp conveniently, where the guard patterns didn’t wander- they must have assumed the stronger mogu would be able to handle himself well in a fight. 

Well. For the first time, Varian wasn’t looking for a fight. He was looking down at the end of his goal and intended to make it happen, swiftly and silently. 

He approached the back of the tent and kept his movements as slow as his patience could muster, clutching Shalamayne tight in his fist as he drew the side of the tent over like a curtain, peeking up at the mogu. While he wasn’t as skilled as an SI:7 agent, he knew that he was just as capable in battle. 

He released the tense energy in his calves and sprung up behind The Blade, the creature only half a head taller than him as he yanked on the back of his chestplate and stabbed his sword straight through his middle, the mogu letting out a strangled yell before Varian tugged him down further to wrap an arm around his throat. He grimaced and nearly growled, pushing down Lo’gosh’s need for bloodlust in favor of keeping control of his rage. 

Once he felt The Blade weaken in his grip, he let go of his neck and let his limp body slide off of the sharp blade with a sickening cacophony of cracks and squelching. He locked his sword to his back again and pushed away the curtain hiding the inside of the tent, spotting a few crates and knelt down in front of them. 

He ripped the wooden nailed tops off with his hands and peered inside, rummaging around and searching through different compartments and items. Ointment… ointment… what would it look like? 

At the bottom of the crate he saw a small rounded compartment and opened it, finding it full of an oily substance that gave a peaceful aura. He concluded that this was it and held it carefully in his fist. If he wasn’t cautious, he could crush the thing and waste all of their time, leaving them with no way to counter the Divine Bell. 

He managed to sneak out as easily as he snuck in and stuffed the ointment into Reverence’s saddlebags, right beside the mallet head. He gently lifted Anduin up as Reverence stood, stretching his thick, muscular legs. The horse sniffed briefly at Anduin’s head just before the boy woke up again, calmer than he had before. He blinked blearily and with Varian’s help, climbed up and scooted back onto the saddle. He adjusted his sword and tied it back onto the back of the saddle, Reverence’s flank protected by the thick metal armor that always stood there. Well. Usually stood there. Anduin hadn’t been fastening it to the horse when he went out for a pleasure ride, opting to leave the heavy things off to make his friend more comfortable. 

Under the gaze of the moonlight, Varian steered Reverence back toward Lion’s Landing, preparing for the next steps in their path to victory. Garrosh would not stay ahead for long.

* * *

“Ah, you’ve found all the pieces!” 

“Forget that, they look like death!”

To Anduin, Taylor’s voice was a relief. He slid off the side of Reverence, nearly crumpling to the floor in his struggle to regain his strength. With the Admiral’s help and a quiet thank you, he was escorted alongside his father and the Monkey King into the keep. Reverence was lead back to the stables after a parting neigh to his rider and Varian fetching his sword and the necessary materials from his saddlebags. 

They laid the items out on the table as Taylor fetched rations for the exhausted royals, making sure the prince was properly seated before he passed out again. He brought back a sandwich that was halved and the two munched down on them quickly as the King locked the handle back onto the head of the mallet, holding it up slightly as he admired its works. 

Anduin felt like he should have been more excited, like he should have been ecstatic to finally be able to protect the Alliance and Azeroth from Garrosh’s desires. This whole adventure seemed so whimsical at first, but Anduin knew that this would only spiral into disaster the further the warfronts continued, the further they threatened the safety of the natives on  _ both _ sides, despite the Alliance wanting to protect them, sometimes the harm was clearly evident. 

The sandwich was gone before he knew it and he was admiring the mallet alongside the Monkey King. He opened the compartment filled with the ointment- more like oil- wasn’t ointment a paste? The smell and the feeling in one tiny compartment was a brace of warmth surrounding his heart. The harmony that rung from it sung in his head and he shut the lid, a tiny smile crawling on his face. 

This, this is what would save them from the tyranny and aggression that was Garrosh Hellscream. This tiny bottle of oil carried so much life and magic, Anduin was sure that even if there wasn’t any more- just this would be enough.

The smile was gone the moment the keep’s doors burst open and a scrambled, frightened soldier sprinted inside and slid to a stop in front of them. Anduin stood up straighter and squared his shoulders, prepared for the worst of news. 

It wasn’t anything that he was expecting. 

“King Wrynn- Warchief Hellscream has amassed an army of his Kor’kron soldiers atop Emperor’s Reach!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there!! Are you as shocked as I am that these chapters are coming out faster? Also, I'm sorry if the chapter does seemed rushed, I'm just so excited to hit the climax of the story! Anduin's recovery is most likely going to be a big part of this novel, and I can't wait to write it. All I need to do is write out chapter 26 and continue my story chapter outlines, then we'll be set!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3<3<3<3!! 
> 
> Comments and kudos incredibly appreciated! They help me keep the story going faster ^^


	26. That Day, the King's Priest Faced Death Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His final hours are upon him.

Anduin struggled to hold tight to Reverence’s neck as they sped through the night, occasionally reaching back frantically to make sure the ointment was still in his belt pouch and the mallet had not come loose. The stablehand had removed his companion’s saddle and armor after they had gone into the keep, and riding bareback was absolutely terrifying. 

Anduin scooted forward and wrapped his arms fully around the base of the horse’s neck, peeking around the side and squinting in the cold winds. Reverence, as exhausted as he was, pushing himself too hard to go as fast as he could as he sensed his rider’s urgency and anxiety.

The prince had approached his stall quickly and quietly, his young face a ghastly color as he removed the lead and opened the door, beckoning him almost frantically. He was whispering almost nonsense ramblings and snuck them out of the backdoor of the Landing, telling him that they needed to get to the Kun-lai Summit as fast as they possibly could. Reverence knew the risky paths to get to the other side of the continent and opted to take them. As long as Anduin didn’t interfere, he wasn’t complaining. 

The warm day turned into a frigid, desolate night. Under the light of the two moons Anduin had great difficulty seeing where Reverence was even going and only caught hints by the stray sightings of a rare road lantern and the occasional bright star.

The absolute terror he felt in his heart the moment the soldier spoke the words of Garrosh’s location and the inference of his intent would scar his poor heart for decades to come. Nothing would match the potential terror of Garrosh’s mutated Horde overtaking Azeroth with nothing but an Old God’s experimentation standing in the way of their victory. 

Father had ordered the Seventh Legion to depart for Pandaria immediately, planning to bait out Garrosh’s attack and then counter his strike with the Harmonic Mallet, but Anduin knew that it would take too long. The Bell’s terrible song would ring and they would all be doomed. Anduin forced his own hand and decided to take the problem into himself to solve. 

All of this, the bloodshed, the conquering- it was because he crashed onto the island, and the Horde as well not long after chasing him aground. If Garrosh had never known that he’d landed upon an uncharted isle and saw it as a threat- they would most likely not be in the position they were now. They wouldn’t have interfered with the natives, nor would they have ever been a problem for them.

Anduin looked up at the ridge of mountains and exhaled shakily, trembling at the intimidation like he never had before. When he’d gone to the Summit firsthand he had been filled with wonder and awe. The grace and yet incredible hardness of the beautiful landscape took his breath away. He felt that nothing, not even the great city of Stormwind, could compare. Anduin returned his gaze to the pitch-black path no longer slightly illuminated by the cloudy moons, and hunched down slightly behind Reverence’s head to block the wind from irritating his eyes. 

He’d never felt this kind of fear- not since he’d been taken to Onyxia’s lair and been chased by violent, hungry whelplings. Forced to hide in lava-hot crevices that seared his flesh while stifling his terror- not quite the same as the current moment, but Anduin was convinced he’d feel the same heart-palpitating dread when he confronted the Warchief. 

Talking himself into  _ confronting  _ the  _ Warchief _ of the  _ Horde _ was a battle within his own brain. There was one side that screamed that he’d be murdered either by Garrosh or his father, and the other was arguing that  _ more _ would die than just him if he didn’t do this. Then there was the middle, pessimistic and optimistic that said that if he died the attempt would go to waste, but he would most likely become a symbol and a martyr for those within the Horde, the Alliance, or even part of a neutral faction. It would speak out against the Warchief for murdering a child- the child confronting  _ him _ or not, enemy or not, he would still be held responsible for murdering a child. Why would his death be the one to matter the most and not the children Garrosh had killed before?

It would be because of the fact that he was the prince and son of High King of the Grand Alliance, the sole heir to Varian Wrynn. His father would decimate Garrosh under the heel of the Alliance in his uncontrolled rage, and Anduin was confident in that fact no matter how fearful it made him that his father would literally throw away his life if provoked and not convinced to stop. His death would make too much noise for the other factions to ignore. It saddened Anduin to know this- to know that for the only reason he would be mentioned worldwide instead of the poor men and women and children that were slain under Garrosh- would be because of his status, his name. 

Thinking about him dying and the aftereffects it would have mildly disturbed him- more about how he was thinking so calmly of it and not freaking out like he should have been. He was afraid, of course, but speculating was calming him slightly. If he could get his mind off of the inevitable, maybe it would make the eventual confrontation more bearable. 

Anduin lifted his head slightly as Reverence slowed, and the prince gulped. Emperor’s reach was nestled in the mountains and didn’t look accessible from the ground. He saw a hot air balloon, but immediately sorted that off of the list of possible entryways. The balloon would attract too much attention, especially when he needed to stay hidden, and actually get on to the platform, not above it. 

Feeling the consequences of riding bareback on such a large, hard-muscled horse, Anduin stretched his sore legs carefully. He would have to get ready anyways, he was going to climb up the cliffside up to the platform. It looked as if there was a spot to the far left on the platform where he could hide behind a few pillars. He pulled his arms back and readjusted the strap once he’d finished preparing his limbs for the climb. 

Reverence whinnied to Anduin and shoved his back with his head. The prince turned and smiled sadly. He cupped the sides of his strong, round jaw and pressed his forehead to the flat plane of bone and soft fur between his eyes. Reverence sniffed at his chest and whinnied again, nudging him insistently. Anduin lifted his trembling lips and pressed a kiss to his muzzle. He looked directly in Reverence’s pale blue eyes and pat his jaw again, eyes crinkling slightly as he forced his smile to feel joyful, though he felt the lump in his throat. 

“If I’m not back by the time the moons reach over the ridge, return to the Landing, okay?” Reverence neighed quietly in protest and bumped his head into his chest, nearly reaching his knees. Anduin choked back a weak sob and turned it into a choked laugh. He looked up to the sky to somehow try and force the tears back into his eyes. “Promise me, buddy. If I’m not back when the moon is visible you have to leave. Can you do that for me?” He knew the climb would take him almost an hour at least, so he was really just guessing the position the moon would be in. Still, he wanted his friend to be safe. 

Begrudgingly, the horse nodded and nuzzled his neck with his cold, sweaty nose. Anduin was convinced Reverence was half-dog as he laughed and stroked his face again. His lips began to tremble again as he reached forward and wrapped his arms around his neck. He let out shaky, strangled breaths in an attempt to calm down. His shoulders began to shudder and Anduin pulled away before the tears would fall and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from crying himself silly. He pecked Reverence’s forehead again for good measure and tugged a half-smirk on to his face again. 

“Give dad a hug for me, okay?” Reverence crooned softly in response and nudged him toward the wall, folding his legs down as he settled by a large bough and turned his head to the ridge to watch for the moons. Anduin tightened the necessary straps on himself, making sure the mallet wouldn’t get in his way and that his pouch was tied tightly to the belt cinching his tabard. He could hardly feel the cold with how numb he was, but opted to pull his sleeves down slightly anyways. he looked down at his bare fingers and found them an almost angry red, clammy and cold from being below the draft of a monstrous mountain range. 

He approached the wall and exhaled strongly, placing his foot down against a deep nook and hefting himself up. 

The climb was torturous. He’d nearly fallen to his cold, broken tomb three separate times due to ice and his clumsy, numb fingers. His boot had lost traction twice and he was left dangling for a minute before he regained his footing. Each time he could hear the echo of Reverence’s panicked rearing and prayed that the enemies above him couldn’t hear it from so far down. 

His nails scraped against rock and the vibration left an uncomfortable feeling tingling across his fingers, forcing him to reaffirm his grip. He clung tight to the disproportionate wall and gave himself enough room to bend his knees. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. The next handholds he could see in the light of the moons-realizing only now that  _ he _ was above the ridge- were too far for him to reach, and he’d have to jump and grab onto them. 

Anduin hung his body down and off the wall for a moment before he used the small ledge his feet were perched on to spring upward and scramble to grab the decent-sized handhold, scrabbling his boots to gain traction on the slippery wall. He dug the tread of his boots into the thick ice and looked over. 

He was head-level with the platform and only three meters away from the side of the half-wall that guarded inhabitants from falling straight off of the terrace. If he could just move a few feet over, he’d be able to jump and grab the ledge. Anduin squinted in the darkness just as a cloud passed over the moons and kept a firm hold on the mountainside, his muscles trembling and joints aching. He spotted an ice-covered patch of a thin fissure, but just thick enough for his fingers to slide through. 

Carefully, he pressed his toes into the divot in the rock and, one hand at a time, slid them into the crack. Anduin’s breath caught as the ice slid against his numb skin and he moved instantly, throwing himself at the ledge. 

Anduin’s eyes widened as he felt the leather strap securely fastened to his chest began to come loose, and the mallet began to fall off. He nearly let go of the ledge in a panic but caught the handle between his ankles, catching the end of the pommel that widened and squeezing his legs together tightly to hold it there as he shifted sideways to be closer to the pillar just on the inside of the railing. He felt the mallet swaying dangerously against his shins, threatening to slip through the soft cloth of his trousers and fall all the way down the mountain. For good measure, he crossed his feet and kept his knees bent back enough to at least keep the weapon in his grasp. 

Once he was behind the pillar, Anduin began to pull himself up. Not using his legs was torturous, stealing the breath from his lungs to support his muscles as he dug his chipped nails into the railing as he slowly but surely maneuvered himself over the ledge. He practically glued his own mouth shut by pressing his lips into a thin line and gritting his teeth against them from the inside of his mouth.

He flopped to the stone platform with a groan as the mallet came swinging back down with his legs and hit him, full impact, square in the back. He let out a pained grunt and froze, hoping that the Kor’kron with Garrosh couldn’t hear him. He reached back and removed the mallet with care, holding it tight against his chest- despite it being longer than his torso and half of his weight. Anduin scooted with his back against the pillar and prayed. 

He let the stone cool his sweaty skin underneath the almost too-hot clothes, and yet his fingers remained nearly frozen. Anduin brought them to his mouth and blew out hot breaths, hoping to be able to feel them by the time he confronted Garrosh. He readjusted the mallet to lay flat on the ground and not roll around and make noise, and then peeked around the pillar to investigate the scene before him. Luckily, none of the orcs around had seen or heard him, so he was in the clear.

For now. 

The rush of the wind made it hard to hear, but once he’d moved close enough behind the ledge to remain unseen, he could hear the militant yells and responding shouts between soldier and warchief quite easily. Anduin folded in on himself slightly, feeling Garrosh’s aggression from across the platform.

“We are the Horde! We bow to nothing and  _ no one!”  _

“The lesser of the Horde will be  _ buried _ by our power- we will control them!” 

“Together we will destroy the Alliance, and claim what is rightly ours!” 

Anduin frowned. If he meant Azeroth, he was dead wrong. 

The orcs are what invaded Azeroth in the first place. They were not native, nor would they ever have been if it weren’t for the Dark Portal. Anduin saw no signs of orcish evolution in any of the worldwide tomes and books he’d read- the orcs were completely unnatural to Azeroth’s normal ecosystems and ancient humanoids. 

If it weren’t for Thrall, the orcs would have been driven extinct by Kalimdor’s harsh nature and hostile inhabitants. 

_ So no, Azeroth isn’t ‘rightfully’ yours,  _ the young prince thought angrily. Disregarding any history in any way- Azeroth still wasn’t purely Garrosh’s to ‘claim’ in such a way. She belonged to them all, and they must be tasked with caring for the earth like she was their own family. Anduin was intent on keeping that same morale, even when he was king. No Azeroth? No Horde  _ or _ Alliance. 

It was stupid to think otherwise. Completely appalling to think that any wise, long-winded leader would ever forget such a thing. 

They continue to surprise him, though. 

Anduin gasped as he felt the overwhelming wave of anger and power flow through him- hearing the bell’s loud ringing permeating the numb, blaring ringing in his ears. He lost the breath in his chest and clawed at his throat for air as the forceful, passionate emotions took control of his body. His muscles tensed and contracted, falling forward and catching himself on his clenched fists. Distantly, the sounds of Garrosh’s soldiers screaming their agony alerted him to their suffering. 

With the power of the Light, Anduin placed a mana-dependent shield over himself for an unassumed amount of time. He gasped desperately as the emotions were shoved from his being, coughing up the Sha infestation like bile against the ground, crawling up and out of his throat and flinching as it slithered away from him like tiny maggots. The prince grimaced and reached blindly for the mallet, dragging it over by the handle as he laid it across his lap. He hadn’t even realized it had fallen out of his grasp. 

“Conquer your hatred!” He heard Garrosh’s commanding voice boom over the wails and screams. “With the power of this bell on our side, there is nothing that can stop us!” 

_ Try me.  _ Anduin challenged quietly in his head. 

“If our enemies decide to push us- we will run them into the ground!” Anduin clutched the mallet back to his chest and decided to peek around the ledge, his eyes shooting wide at the scene before him.

The strong men and women of the Kor’kron guard, amassed nearly to an army of loyal Horde soldiers. They were writhing in pain, squirming and cringing- and in its direct way- Anduin had no way of countering the absolute torture that invaded his mind at that very moment, slamming into the priest like a buckler to the chest. Physical blockades kept him from being infected again, but he was too worried about the outcome of the poor soldiers to look away. He simply strengthened his mental barriers and tried his hardest to endure the pain that was smacking at him like debris from a tornado. 

One by one the soldiers ceased moving, and they dropped like flies. 

It was a disgusting, disturbing sight. Lines and lines of bodies of those who had believed in Garrosh, those who had put their faith in him. Anduin’s jaw fell agape as he let out some pathetic noise in response to the instant mass death hitting him like a cannon. With trembling lips he sucked in a few calming breaths, reaching back for the compartment of oil. He flicked the top open with a fingernail and poured the oil over the mallet, twisting it to coat the entirety of the head. 

With a heavy, bleeding heart and quivering hands, Anduin emerged from his hiding spot once the rest of the suffering Kor’kron were dead. Faintly the voices of the deceased screamed at him to do something, to save them from the calling of the Light, the Earth Mother, the Spirits, the Loa-whomever they sought guidance from. Anduin could do nothing to help them. 

He wasn’t strong enough to. 

Anduin wanted to stop moving and become the smallest being in the universe to escape Garrosh’s seething glare, eyes a deep yellow as they raked over his pitiful, shivering form. He held the mallet tight with two hands and stopped walking until he reached the end of the lines of bodies that were practically framing the entire terrace. He took a deep, shaky breath, and pressed his lips into a thin line before speaking. 

“What were you thinking?” 

Anduin could smack himself. He hadn’t meant to berate the warchief, but it only served to fuel his anger. Before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth again. 

You don’t know what that bell is capable of.” His words were quieter, but he knew that Garrosh had heard him- insinuating that he was too simple-minded to understand just how drastic the damaging, everlasting effects that the bell had on those it granted its ‘power’ to any who could stomach the burden. Garrosh merely smirked. 

“So in the end, it is not  _ Varian _ Wrynn who comes to face me… and instead his whelp who comes to die in his place,” Anduin’s brows furrowed, enraged at the mention of any harm coming to his father. “You are brave to run to your death so quickly, little lion.” Anduin shook his head, the back of his aching head reminding him the toll of stress and magic he continued to perform on himself with. Anduin let the shield crawl off of his body slowly, making sure the warchief knew he wasn’t stupid enough to try anything long-ranged lest he recieve an axe to the neck. 

“My father has more important things to attend to rather than waste his time on foolish orcs who believe they can rule the world.” Anduin’s voice was cold with the lie on his swollen tongue, frowning. Garrosh growled. 

“Such a shame. I would have loved to mail you his head in a neatly wrapped box.” Anduin’s eyes burned with rage, but the amusement appearing in Garrosh’s eyes and the obvious twitching of his tusks revealing a smirk told Anduin that he was playing right into his hands. The priest calmed himself slowly. 

“You won’t ever get the chance.” 

“Do you plan to kill me, boy?” Anduin scoffed. 

“Of course not, I’m not stupid,” Feeling completely unbelievably brave, Anduin opted to march straight past the warchief. Surprisingly, he let him. Anduin clenched the mallet in his hands and held it chest level. “I felt the need to inform you of what you were getting yourself into once we’d heard the urgent news of the Horde’s Warchief amassing an army of his best soldiers atop Emperor’s Reach…” His look of sorrow toward the dead brought a disgusted snarl from the Warchief, like the orc didn’t believe he truly grieved for his enemy. 

“The mogu made the Divine Bell to create chaos, but the pandaren created a special mallet to turn the echoes of that chaos into perfect harmony,” he turned his head briefly to find the towering warchief standing just a few feet from him. Anduin tried his best not to look fearful as he slid his hand up the handle slightly to retain a better grasp. “That mallet was hidden for thousands of years, until now.” 

He swung the mallet back like a bat and used all of his weight to swing it back around and strike the bell directly in the side- the immediate crack and surge in harmonic vibration forcing the prince to drop the mallet and stumble back to avoid breaking his toes. Anduin observed the damage in the ancient artefact and mourned quietly for such ancient history being lost, the cracks in the bell causing bits of stone to fall like flakes and pebbles to the ground. 

Anduin heard Garrosh roar violently behind him and whipped around on his heel, facing the raised blade of Gorehowl. He withdrew quickly and felt his back touch the stone bell, realizing grimly that he was trapped. His panicked breaths caused his chest to stutter, turning his anxious nerves into a full-blown panic as he began to fight for air through the rock in his throat. He reached back and supported his weak form by pressing his hands into the bell, hissing at a sharp jut in the stone sliced his palm. He held the damaged appendage to his chest and locked his eyes fearfully onto the Warchief before him. 

He was seething with rage, his large chest heaving and muscles tensed as he raised Gorehowl higher over his head. The most terrifying thing was the silence- just the air whipping around them and the lone cry of a vulture echoing through the mountains. 

Anduin let out a muffled shrieked and ducked to escape the sudden swing and rush of air as the blade nearly chopped his head off, slicing through a fissure of the bell that made it ring out and swing dangerously again- the sound distorted and wrong and causing further cracks to splinter down the middle. Anduin pushed himself up and stuttered the words for a shield to envelop him- but his words were too muddled and slurred, too quick for the Light to understand. Garrosh roared again and brought the axe up, rising to his full height. Anduin prepared himself to dodge again.

_ “Die, whelp!”  _

Anduin threw himself forward to the ground, landing on the platform stomach-first just as the axe made contact with the bell again and caused the rocking of the stone to finally give way. Anduin’s eyes widened just as it groaned and rattled, the split in the stone completely shattering the artefact and crumbling down upon the prince.

The heavy, boulder-like stones fell onto him before he had time to react. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next chapter.


	27. The Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velen makes an oath to protect his student.

Anduin’s breaths fluttered weakly as he exerted all of his energy to inhale the cold air. He felt pained tears sliding down his face as noises tried to escape him, the breathlessness coming to him easier as he struggled to stay awake. His blurred eyes moved slowly as he stared up at the frozen Warchief, standing there with axe in hand and eyes slightly widened- instead of a victorious grin there was a frown plastered to his face. Almost as if he was conflicted. 

Anduin’s shattered, trembling fingers twitched as he moved his arm, his shoulder screaming in protest, his bones like jelly and locking him into full-body paralyzation. Still, he persisted, arm creeping out across the ground, slabs of stone trickling off of the limb one by one. Anduin reached out to him and stared pleadingly, begging with his eyes and the pathetic, whimpering noises from his chest for the orc to help him, get the heavy stone weighing him into ground  _ off. Get it off. Get it off! It hurts so much!  _ His mind screamed the words for him, unable to speak properly. He could taste the copper thick on his tongue, blood mingling with his saliva as it drooled out of the corner of his mouth. He had no control over the rest of his body. His arm went limp, hand flopping uselessly against the ground, his fingers still slightly outstretched. 

Garrosh took a step back, and Anduin’s hope crumbled like the bell that just shattered upon him. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears flowed like a rushing river down his face, pitiful whimpers escaping his mouth.  _ Of course he isn’t going to help me. Why would he?  _

He let the sea of pain wash over him as he fell into deep unconsciousness. 

* * *

Prophet Velen breathed in deeply as he let the distant harmonic chimes ding around his head. He let the Light flow through him and around him, becoming one with his power. He was interrupted from his deep meditation as O’ros’ melodic voice filled his head. 

_ Our young human friend is in trouble.  _

Just as he spoke, on the other side of the bond there was a significant weakening in Anduin’s life force. He frowned and opened his eyes, lowering himself to the ground. Gently he crossed the bond and prodded against his rapidly decaying barriers. Velen imagined himself upon the celestial plane, approaching a dome of Light that was slowly disappearing, crumbling and shaking the plane like an earthquake as it fell. 

He was overwhelmed with waves of pain and suffering, gasping as he was practically thrown back across the rapidly crumbling bridge that was formed strong and complete between them- Velen stumbled to gather himself to his feet again and shielded himself securely in his own barriers, reaching out to envelop his young student with the Light. From so far- him on Azuremyst and Anduin on Pandaria- the offer was weak, Velen wondered if Anduin was even awake. 

If he was even  _ alive. _

Velen stood on shaky legs, stumbling out of his personal chambers as he rushed for the hall of portals. He’d have to warn Varian if the King wasn’t already aware of his son’s condition. 

Velen prayed that his dear student was still alive, even if it was just barely. 

* * *

Varian was fuming.

Infuriatingly enraged.

Only a few hours after the news of Garrosh’s location had been informed to them, Anduin had taken the mallet, the ointment, Reverence, and disappeared off into the night like some vigilante ready to lay down his life when Varian had the Seventh Legion on the way. They already departed from Stormwind’s shores and all available posts that did not currently need defending and were on the way to help deal with Garrosh. 

Varian was worried out of his mind, tempted to smack some sense into the boy once he was found. Hopefully uninjured, but the king couldn’t be sure when it came to Garrosh. He’d attacked defenseless children before, Varian couldn’t be so sure he wouldn’t on his own child. 

He was waiting anxiously for Khantis and Verild’s return, the only two adventurers he truly trusted with Anduin’s safety and wellbeing. The two had set out nearly an hour ago, and Varian hoped that they’d return with the boy safe and intact. Both draenei were also-  _ rightfully- _ angry at Anduin, and he was planning on giving the prince a stern talking to once he’d returned, maybe even house-arrest. 

The warrior began to pace as Taylor sighed angrily from across the room, filling out various reports to kill time as they waited for Anduin’s return. The frustrated scribbling of the quill kept Varian grounded as he kept his eyes locked only to the window and the door, looking for any sign of his stupid son and the champions. 

What was he  _ thinking?  _ Chasing after the Warchief of the Horde- an orc that even Varian had difficulty facing in battle. Anduin couldn’t stand a chance, and was he even planning to fight him? A priest of the Light, a healer, not a fighter. He cared for people and worried over them like a mother hen. What was he going to do, beg the Warchief not to use the bell? Make him a deal? Talk him out of it?  _ None of it would work.  _ Garrosh was too arrogant and filled with aggression to even think of it- Varian wouldn’t put it past him to kill children, least of all  _ his _ son. The enemy's only child, the sole heir to multiple countries put under his watchful care. Killing Anduin would have a lethal blow against the Alliance, Varian would  _ destroy _ him, no matter how much it cost, if it came down to that. 

Varian stopped abruptly and buried his face into his hands, groaning loudly into them. Taylor raised his head and cocked an eyebrow at the king. 

“Are you alright?” Varian snapped his head up and snarled at the Admiral. 

“No! I’m not alright! My idiotic son went to chase down Garrosh Hellscream. Why the hell would I be  _ alright?!”  _ He yelled, fists clenching as he turned to punch the wall. The sound of the stone cracking echoed throughout the room, the guards beginning to shuffle uncomfortably. He could feel the wall dent under his gauntlets and his knuckles begin to ache. Varian breathed heavily through his nose and pressed his lips together, brow twitching angrily. He’d rather be out on the field punching orcs rather than the wall, but he would take what he could get. 

“Sorry I asked.” Taylor said with an irritated huff, the quill’s scratching picking back up again. Varian removed his hand from the wall and began to pace again, the pattering of his boots joining the break in silence. 

Suddenly, the doors to the main office burst open and Varian whipped his head around. Everything was too fast to comprehend, Khantis shuffling in while cradling a limp, pale form in his arms as Verild laid out a cloak on the ground in front of the table beside him. The figure was set down gently just as the warrior’s twin disappeared through a portal. 

Varian turned his head to look down at the bloodied form- his body almost resembling crumpled paper that was opened flat again. 

The king fell to his knees just behind the boy as he reached his quaking hands out to cradle his son’s head in his lap. Varian dare not touch any other part of his body, brushing his bangs from his forehead as he stared at the face of his youngest son, pained, bruised, and bloody. His nose was crooked, blood leaked from it and dripped down his chin from his pale lips, the inside coated with red. 

It made him sick. Varian retreated into his consciousness to recover from such a heartbreaking sight. His son, his baby boy- on the verge of  _ death. _

“What happened.” It wasn’t a question. 

“We… he was under the bell. Crushed. It was crushed, and he was under it- we… we had to dig him out,” Khantis’ voice was trembling with emotion as he reached out to touch his hand- but a violent growl from Lo’gosh prevented him from touching his son’s broken fingers. “Verild is getting the Prophet now. He’s- look, he’s still breathing. Varian- _ Lo’gosh _ , you need to calm down.” He hadn’t realized he was gnarling lowly, his chest rumbling with the sound- amplifying just as Taylor knelt by Anduin’s side. He had a look of despair on his face, but didn’t reach out to touch him, a rumble of respect coming from him as the Admiral kept an acceptable distance from his cub. 

Lo’gosh continued to make the noises, unsure of how to actually stop, snarling when a portal suddenly opened beside them. He gently laid Anduin’s head back down to the floor and curled over his limp, pale, bloody form protectively, teeth bared. 

He was convinced they were going to hurt him more. Anduin was already near death, what was stopping them from finishing the job and then killing him next to assume the power vacuum and take over the Alliance? Extreme paranoia took hold of Lo’gosh, and he shoved Khantis away the moment he dared to take a step toward his cub. Taylor tried to grab his shoulder carefully but gladiator was having none of it. He pushed the Admiral away as well and stood in front of his child, prepared to defend his tiny pack in any way possible. He wouldn’t sit by and do nothing like he did with Tiffin. He let her attackers get away with hurting his family. He wouldn’t give these so-called ‘allies’ any chance. 

Nor would he give Garrosh ample time to lounge and laze when he thought he’d won. Lo’gosh was halfway to planning his demise. 

Varian was yelling in his head that they were only trying to help- this Prophet Velen man his cub respected and cherished so deeply- but how could Lo’gosh be so sure of that? He’d trusted before- for them to help him- and they failed to do so. Lo’gosh scowled in annoyance as Varian began to push himself back to the forefront of their mind, telling Lo’gosh that he wasn’t protecting him- he wasn’t even preventing his suffering. 

The gladiator reared his head just as the Prophet stepped out of the portal, his graceful formed ragged with worry as he searched for the prince, finding his small, broken form just behind Lo’gosh. Velen peered over his shoulder and the tall human blocked his sight. His canines bared as if he were a wolf protecting his cub. Velen placed his hands out placatingly and attempted to soothe the gladiator. 

Just then, a quiet noise swept silence over the room. His ears perked up as he turned his head and immediately knelt back down beside Anduin, cupping his bruised cheek as his lips fell open slightly. His lids half-open and bloodshot, tears slipping down his face. 

Anduin made a strangled whimpering noise as his chest attempted to inhale a deep breath to properly cry- but it only made him stutter and cough which brought flecks of blood to his lips. Anduin groaned as Lo’gosh tried to soothe him. He was hesitant to touch his arm or his hand- his body was completely broken, it was a miracle his head and neck survived the assault. 

The prophet spoke. 

“I can save him, Lo’gosh, I promise not to harm him.”

Lo’gosh stared holes straight into the table in front of him with his deathly glare. The gladiator knew that there was nothing  _ he _ could do to heal his cub, and he’d have to let this man provide what he could not. Feeling vastly inadequate, Lo’gosh stepped to the other side of his son and promptly knelt down, glaring at the prophet instead. Velen approached Anduin and placed a hand on his forehead, and then one on his chest. 

“I’ll need to prioritize healing his vital organs and his sternum before anything else. His ribs are all shattered…” Velen’s voice was near-silent, Lo’gosh having to strain his ears to hear despite the quiet in his own head- Varian was placated that he’d let Velen heal Anduin. The boy was making quiet, pained sounds and his eyes were fluttering, his whole body was shaking. Lo’gosh felt a protective snarl rise in his chest as Velen pressed a little too carelessly against Anduin’s chest, causing him to cry out loudly. 

Velen hushed him gently as he resumed his concentration, moving his hand up and down his ribcage. Lo’gosh could see the subtle movement under his clothes, but had a feeling that it would take a lot more than the Light to reform shattered bones. The gladiator slid a few fingers under Anduin’s palm and his whole hand flinched. The boy hissed and moved his head slightly, choked sobs falling from his lips. Lo’gosh winced and frowned deeply, sliding his whole hand under Anduin’s, loosely grasping, just letting it sit there. There was almost an attempt to hold his fingers, but the prince was too weak and hurt to do so. 

“Lo’gosh,” The warrior’s head snapped to attention, “I need you to gently-  _ gently _ lift him. Prepare his chambers- unless you’d rather me take him to the infirmary.” 

“Room is more private.” Lo’gosh grunted shortly, moving his hand away to slide his arm under the crook of his cub’s almost flattened knees. He then tucked another under his back and began to lift gently. 

Anduin  _ screamed.  _

Lo’gosh froze his limbs and stared wide-eyed as full-blown shrieks and shouts crawled out of his healing lungs, his voice hoarse. 

“What’s wrong?!” Taylor yelled over Anduin’s distressed wailing, Khantis seemed increasingly stressed. His twin led them both out of the room, realizing that crowding the poor boy would only make him worse. Velen leaned down quickly and pressed their foreheads together, whispering frantically. The prince began to calm ever-so-slightly, and slowly his breaths began to even out even if they were labored. 

“His bones were shattered. I should not have asked you to handle him physically, but he should be in deep sleep now. I apologize for my recklessness.”

“Did you put him into a coma?” Taylor asked, stepping around the side nervously as Lo’gosh carefully lifted his cub up off of the blood-soaked cloak beneath him. His armor prevented him from feeling the warm slickness rushing off of his clothes, but the metal was smeared with his child’s blood. The answer to his question was obvious.

He pillowed Anduin’s head onto his shoulder and tried to balance his weight, but it was clear that he would be in pain no matter what position he put him in. Lo’gosh sped as quickly as he could to Anduin’s chambers, the guards giving them clear leeway though Lo’gosh could tell they were scared. He couldn’t decide if they were fearful for his son’s life or of the absolute rage and wild posture the king exhibited. The doors were opened immediately and he shuffled through, laying Anduin down onto his perfectly-made covers, now ruined by blood. He stared down at his armor in horror, not realizing just how  _ much _ Anduin had been bleeding until then. The slick fluid dripped off of his fingers and down his chest plate. Velen moved around him carefully and shouted to the guards to retrieve any available medics from the infirmary. 

Lo’gosh didn’t know how long he stood there in shock, but it was long enough for Varian to take hold of the reins again and move out of the way when two medics rushed in, supplies dangling in their arms and on their belts.

Feeling unusually vulnerable, Varian left the room to let the medics do their job. 

* * *

Velen knew from the moment Anduin stepped on the  _ Vanguard _ that he would be Shipwrecked. He didn’t know where, and he didn’t know when during his journey, but he knew that it was going to happen. 

He never thought it would turn out like this. 

A boy, a child, lying on his deathbed as Velen worked so frantically to save him. He wouldn’t dare exert Anduin’s stamina in order to heal his full body- and he sorrowfully decided to have him suffer for far longer than he deserved. In truth, Anduin did not deserve to suffer at all. Healing him fully would completely empty his energy reserves, and he would be even closer to dying if Velen decided to take that route. 

In a desperate attempt to renew their dying bond, Velen caressed his student’s temples and closed his eyes, steadily healing his punctured vital organs in the meantime as he searched for the Light’s spirit inside of him. The weak, pitiful response threw Velen off completely. Anduin’s core was always so playful and kind, whenever he was around the boy it would always feel like he was wrapped into a warm hug for the duration of their time spent together. It would retract eventually, but Velen noticed the effect it had on those that even Anduin did not know. People relaxed around the prince easily than they would have when introduced to a stranger. 

Which puzzled Velen as to why Anduin had no friends with such a friendly, giving nature to complement the usually dismal air around him at all times. 

Velen could feel Varian’s distress even after he’d left the room, armor soaked in his precious student’s blood that was continuing to seep into his sheets. 

“Prophet, we must wrap the wounds on his back!” Velen waved a hand over Anduin’s torso once more, and while his ribs were still heavily cracked, they were pieced back together and his organs were no longer causing him to bleed internally. He nodded to the medic and prepared to sit the boy up. 

“Have him lean against you, and we’ll work on him.” He tucked Anduin’s arms together and began to heal them slowly, feeling Anduin’s Light grow fainter and fainter the more he applied his own into his system. He’d need to stop  _ very _ soon to let it recuperate and skittishly return to the prince, hopefully bolstering the internal healing that was currently… not happening. 

Anduin groaned and buried his bandaged head into Velen’s shoulder, his shoulders trembling as the two medics knelt upon the soaked comforter to properly treat his arms and legs as well as the entirety of his back. 

His shirt was ripped and cut away, revealing his pale, bloody skin. The cuts ran in jagged lines, some deeper than others. It was almost mesmerizing, the way they ran into each other like rivers of red, a maze of pain carved into Anduin’s back. His shirt was cut away with sharp scissors as the medics wrapped multiple bandages around his torso and limbs. He pushed Anduin back slightly to let the gauze pass through, his bleary blue eyes incredibly hazy as they wandered across his face. Velen wasn’t even sure Anduin was looking at him. He wasn’t even sure if Anduin could  _ see.  _ The whites around his eyes were bloodshot.

“Prophet, he’ll need to rest somewhere else until we can get his bed cleaned. It is not sanitary to keep him here while he heals,” Velen complied and readjusted the boy to cradle him like an infant. “His bandages will need to be changed every few hours. We’ve stemmed what we could, and your Light helped immensely. He could have bled out if he wasn’t treated right away. Thank you for healing his internal wounds.” 

“I will bring him to King Varian’s chambers.” He said simply, still slightly in shock, though he tried hard to collect himself. Varian’s room wasn’t too far from Anduin’s, a quiet luxury considering he felt as if he was going to collapse at any moment. He’d been feeling significantly weakened without Anduin’s presence in their bond. He was always there, and now… he just wasn’t. Velen wondered how he could have gone without the young prince in his life for so long. 

Anduin reminded him of his son, granted- Rakeesh was decades older than Anduin, but their spirit remained the same. Both caring for the greater good, though Anduin went at it more realistically than Rakeesh did. 

But Rakeesh was gone, taken under Kil'jaeden's wrath. A memory twenty-five thousand years too late to reminisce on. News of Rakeesh’s kidnapping would forever be a scar on his soul. He dare not let the human child in his care share the same fate. Velen had spent far too long in the past, but he was here now, and he was needed. 

The guards outside of Varian’s door opened it hesitantly, and Velen could see why. 

He must have made quite the ruckus. 

Tables and chairs flipped, plates and glasses broken. This was no place to keep his charge. Varian must have broken down, evident by the faint shuddering that the king was prone to as he breathed heavily into his hands. The bloody top half of his armor was gone, thrown across the room, left only with his legplates. Velen understood. He’d never wish anyone to be slathered in their child’s blood. 

“Varian.” Velen called, snapping the distraught king out of his stupor. He stood immediately and rushed over to Anduin, seeing the state of him. 

“He isn’t healed fully?” He asked scathingly, eyes wide and angry as he stared at the prophet. 

Velen shook his head, “I cannot do so without harming him further. This will need to be a slow recovery. I have not even gotten to the rest of his bones yet. His sternum and ribcage needed most of the attention, they had punctured many of his vital organs- if I had not put all of my efforts into that, then he would have surely died,” Varian sighed and nodded. “However, his bed needs to be cleaned. I decided to come here, but this is...” 

“I’ll clean it up.” Varian waved him off, kicking a few large shards into a pile. Velen hardly cared if his hooves crushed the glass, he couldn’t feel it. Humans, however… they were fragile and easily breakable. He wouldn’t be happy if Anduin was hurt by his father’s anger taken out onto inanimate objects. Velen pulled the covers back and deposited the boy under them, grimacing at the tiny spots of blood that slowly began to surface on the thickly wrapped gauze. 

“I will return within the hour to clean his wounds again. Keep watch, Varian, he is still in a frail state. We do not know how stable he is, but he seems to be breathing,”  _ Not well,  _ he refused to add and cause more distress within the young king. “I will be meditating and regaining my strength while I attempt to revitalize Anduin’s spirit mentally.” Varian looked confused but nodded, tucking Anduin under the covers as he dragged a chair up to his bedside before continuing to clean up the room. 

The prophet sighed, making his way to the common rooms of the small keep. There was enough peace and quiet there for him to meditate, and he would be close enough to Anduin to still feel his life force. 

He would not let another child slip away due to his carelessness ever again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing Varian and Lo'gosh's separate personalities. How did I do?   
> Also- Lo'gosh took over at the worst time and was dumb for like five minutes. Wtf do you think the dudes who brought your half-dead kid to you are going to do? If they were gonna kill him they already would have like damn Lo'gosh use your head for once >:T.


	28. It's Quiet Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alliance is in mourning.

News of Prince Anduin’s fate had stoked the fire of Stormwind’s rage, the sorrowful anger of the  _ Exodar,  _ as well as the mourning and praying from Ironforge, Gnomeregan, Teldrassil, and Gilneas. 

Varian returned home only once in the two days Anduin had been recovered from Emperor’s Reach, his near deathbed. He didn’t stay long. He’d collected Anduin’s things and had them transported to the Landing. He didn’t pack much, but it was just enough. 

He walked out into the city once to visit his wife. 

Stormwind was quiet. 

Varian couldn’t remember the last time depression had swept through the entirety of the kingdom. The aftermath of the Northrend Campaign came close in comparison. 

It was almost as if the whole city was mourning for Anduin. For Prince Anduin Llane Wrynn, the hope of his people and the Light of his life. Anduin had quickly replaced Tiffin in that aspect, for he was the physical embodiment of her love. 

“Tiffin. I failed. I failed him.” Varian fell to his knees in front of her grave, noticing the countless bouquets of flowers and various prayer beads and feathers lining her memorial. Notes and letters with curved letters,  _ ‘For the Prince’.  _ The cold wind brought him no comfort as he wept quietly in front of his dead wife. 

She would never forgive him for this if she was there. 

His legs lead him back to the castle so he could return to his comatose son, and stopped dead in his tracks in front of the peacefully flowing fountains commanded by the mighty statue erected in his honor. 

Just like Tiffin’s grave, there had been countless flowers and prayer items laid about with a picture taken by a gnomish camera sitting in the middle. He knelt down to pick up the delicately framed photo and observed the grainy tintype. 

How could he have missed this when he walked out earlier?

It was a picture of Anduin, taken from slightly below, possibly at a public speech. His hands were clasped respectively and he was smiling brightly. 

Varian would give anything to just see him open his eyes. His labored breathing was starting to scare him, even with the hourly sessions. Anduin was healing slowly, but Velen still hadn’t even gotten to his spine and limbs yet. The king feared his son would turn out paralyzed if he even survived the initial healing. Anduin was stubborn and adventurous, he would never allow himself to be confined to a chair. 

He’d rather die first. 

That thought alone frightened Varian. Afraid of what Anduin would do to himself if he came out broken and scarred. 

He placed the photo back down and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t waste any more time. He wanted to return to his child’s side as quickly as he could. A portal had been opened in the Royal Gardens since the Mage Tower was being renovated, the portals to the different capitals were spread across the castle grounds. 

The mage dipped her head respectively as he passed through, breathing deeply through instant vertigo that washed over him. Since he used portals frequently, he was hardly sick from them like he used to be. 

Varian hardly paid attention to anything around the equally quiet landing, soldiers and workers hustling with dragged footsteps and slouched shoulders. They were mourning for his son as if he was dead, but those in the Landing knew better than those in Stormwind. The constant in-and-out of the medics and even Prophet Velen gave them hope that the prince would pull through just fine. 

_ ‘Just fine’ is pushing it,  _ Lo’gosh reminded him tersely. 

It was for the first time in a long few months that his violent personality had pushed to come out, only to protect Anduin- his,  _ their, _ son. Anduin shared two fathers both constantly at odds with each other with only one thing in common. The love and strength they had for their son. Varian would never consider himself whole, Lo’gosh was as much of his own person as he had claimed to be, and the old gladiator never even wanted to be king again. He wanted to be free and fight and live, and if he succeeded in that he probably would have left Anduin behind. 

_ Don’t insult me. I’d take the boy with me.  _

_ Like hell you would! Anduin is safer with me.  _

_ Sure he is. Just look at what happened while he was with you.  _

Varian’s pride stung deeply at the comment as he peeked into Anduin’s clean, still room. The boy was propped up against a few pillows with bandages wrapped at every point of skin he could see. Except for some of his face. Varian crept closer, keeping his footsteps light. Even though Anduin most likely wouldn’t wake up. A light layer of dust was over books that hadn’t been touched in a week, over the top of his dresser. It was everywhere. It was dismal. 

Varian preferred it that way. 

He picked up a chair and set it by Anduin’s bedside, removing his gauntlets and then the protective gloves underneath. He stared down at his scarred, flattened knuckles. His joints always ached whenever he overused his fists, thankfully, only slightly with Shalamayne. He tried not to go around cracking skulls much anymore. The gauntlets and the armor stemmed some of the aftershocks, but he still felt like an eighty-year-old man the next day regardless. 

He brushed his knuckles upon Anduin’s smaller hand, daring not to pick it up. He was afraid he could deform his frail fingers even more- another set of limbs that Velen had yet to get to, and it had been  _ two days.  _ He was about to throttle the draenei if he didn’t start fixing Anduin  _ soon.  _

A small groan came from the young teenager before him, and Varian gasped. He settled his elbow on the other side of his shoulder and caressed his cheek, sitting up on the side of his bed. Even if he wasn’t fully awake… just for a moment… 

“Wh…” Anduin wheezed, clear droplets sliding down his face. His nose scrunched and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning in pain again as it disturbed the broken bone underneath. Varian moved his thumb to stroke under his eye, attempting to soothe him. He nearly pressed his thumb against a small cut just across his cheekbone. 

“Where…” Anduin moved his head slowly, the tears of pain blocking his vision. Varian hunched over fully and pushed the boy’s head into his shoulder, pressing his lips to his temple and resisting the urge to squeeze him tight against his chest. His heavily bandaged arms were twitching and Varian pulled away slightly, his own eyes watering. 

Anduin was  _ awake.  _

“Hurts…  _ hurts…”  _ He whined, cringing as his labored, stuttered breathing flared burning pain in his chest. “I wan’ my dad.” He croaked pitifully, hiccuping. 

“Shh, Anduin, I’m right here, it’s gonna be alright…” Varian’s heart ached as his son began to cry uncontrollably as agony overwhelmed him, eyes squeezed shut. His fingers were curling awkwardly and his arms were trying to move, but he couldn’t move his legs.

That concerned Varian. Heavily. 

“I can’t feel my legs!” Anduin wailed, nearly thrashing his head as he kept trying to move his lead-limbed arms. Varian held him still carefully as if he were handling a limp, ceramic doll. He wiped away his tears as softly as he could as to not scare him further. 

“Guards!” He shouted over Anduin’s sobbing, the men opening the doors quickly. “Get the Prophet!  _ Now!”  _ He barked, the two disappearing just as quickly as they’d arrived. Varian turned back to his son and grit his teeth, pressing their foreheads together as he bit back his own angry, frustrated tears. He whispered nonsense words of comfort for the five minutes that it took for Velen to finally arrive. Anduin was still crying, a little quieter than before, but he was still trying to move his arms. 

“What’s happened? He’s awake?” Velen rushed to the other side of the bed and immediately placed a hand over his chest. 

“He said he can’t feel his  _ legs.  _ What the hell have you been doing, sitting on your ass this whole time?!” Varian yelled, his throat closing in on him. He stormed away from Anduin’s bedside, rubbing his face aggravatedly. He felt the urge to barbarically scream into a pillow just about then, Lo’gosh’s growls rising in his throat. He was equally pissed. 

“If I use too much of the Light on him, it will  _ kill him.  _ I have explained this to you before.” Velen explained calmly as Anduin turned his face into his mentor’s palm, sighing as his aches were soothed cautiously. Varian felt nothing but anger and the desire to sock the prophet in the jaw, but held back. Velen didn’t deserve it, either way, he was just the closest thing he could hit. He did remember the prophet explaining how to heal requires the said injured person to sacrifice their stamina to interlock the healing process to the caster’s will, which in turn helps them restore the wound faster.

Since Anduin’s injuries were so severe and he was already lacking in energy when he was found- especially in his life force- Velen could only heal for a certain amount of time periodically throughout the day, and even then, it wasn’t enough time to heal three bones fully. Certain minor wounds could be left to heal on his own such as the minor cuts and scratches on his face and upper back as well as the broken nose, but anything below that needed immediate care as soon as he was able. Shattered bones were nothing to play with. 

“I’m sorry, Prophet, this is just…”

“You are distraught. Do not apologize, I cannot blame you. Collectively, our people mourn for a boy who has done too much and received only suffering in return for his generous actions. It is only natural for you to want to protect him from further pain as his father. This feeling… it is unimaginable.” 

Anduin moaned quietly as Velen pulled his hand away and turned for the contact again, but Varian was there first. He almost selfishly turned his son’s face away from his teacher and embraced him again. 

Light, he was just so happy Anduin was alive. 

“Father…” Anduin’s hoarse voice was muffled. Varian pulled away and kept a hand on his face to just feel the slight vibration from his lowly rising and falling chest. Anduin’s face was red with breathlessness, and Velen placed a hand just under his ribs. The prince flinched violently and ground his teeth to prevent any noise from escaping. He slowly began to breathe easier, though, and Varian directed a tight nod in Velen’s direction. “Wanted to say… I’m… I’m sorry.” With every word he struggled to even pronounce it, taking a breath after the long-winded pronunciation as if he was just coming off of anesthetic. 

“Don’t apologize, son.  _ Never _ apologize for this.” He could hardly hear himself talking, his lips trembling and inhaling shaky breaths. 

He felt guilty for being able to breathe normally when Anduin couldn’t. 

“I didn’t wan’ to… to… give him a chance to-” he wheezed before continuing, “didn’t want anyone… anyone to get hurt.” 

“You did the right thing-” he nearly slapped himself for saying it, but berating Anduin at the moment wouldn’t help anything. Varian took a deep breath. “You did what you thought was right. I can’t be mad at that.” He corrected himself, tucking stray strands of pale blonde hair behind his ear.  _ At least, not at this moment specifically.  _ Lo’gosh supplied helpfully, surprisingly parental considering his outlandish, wild mind. 

“Still sorry,” Anduin mumbled, a jaw-cracking yawn splitting his lips. Luckily, his head wasn’t hurt other than a mild concussion. Varian thanked the Light that he hadn’t suffered any brain damage. “I had to… protect you…” Anduin slipped away slowly as his breathing evened out and Velen soothed his student further with a calming spell. 

“Don’t make him comatose again.” Varian warned,  removing his hand from his cheek as he turned his gaze to the prophet. Velen nodded and pulled his hand away. He sighed and clasped his hands together, leaning them against his forehead. 

“You have no need to blame yourself, your majesty,” Velen’s warm tone held a slightly irritated tone. Varian’s shoulders slumped as he buried his face into the comforter. He turned his head and stared guiltily at Anduin’s bandaged hand. “Moping won’t help the young prince recover faster.” 

Varian bristled and sat up straighter, shocked at the usually gentle prophet’s strangely aggressive words. Was this land getting to  _ him _ as well? Would Velen turn on them next? 

“Calm yourself. I merely mean to imply that you have much more important things to do while I care for the boy. I will not allow any harm to come to him, nor will I allow him to die. You will always be able to see him, but you should not put off your duties to watch over him like a hawk.” 

Varian knew he was right, even if he didn’t like it.

He shoved on his gauntlets, pressing a kiss to his son’s brow before he left the room without a word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varian is unusually angry at Velen while trying to cope with his own upset feelings and taking it out on others...
> 
> SIDENOTE: would you guys like it if I wrote a spinoff of Lo'gosh never actually unveiling Onyxia in Stormwind and just taking Anduin and booking it with Broll and Valeera? I think it's hilarious and would make a good fic. 
> 
> If you can, leave comments and kudos!  
> Thank you so much for reading <3<3<3<3


	29. Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Light can't be the only one to save him.

Anduin never thought that waking up would feel the same as dying. 

He had the urge to shoot up out of his soft bed, but he couldn’t feel anything below his aching ribs but pain. Deep, purely agonizing pain. His back was burningly sore and his arms felt like they were being crushed by lead. 

Anduin pried his eyes open and squinted in the darkness. There were a few candelabras lit up around the room, barely illuminating the walls they stood upon. Anduin forced his stiff neck to turn his heavy head and glance toward the window. The rich blue curtains were pulled over, and he could only see a sliver of moonlight through the small gap between the cloth. 

_ What happened?  _

Anduin’s eyes strained to look down at his own body, riddled with stained gauze. He remembered that he went to stop someone, to stop them from doing something bad. He remembered yellow eyes and a big axe, a divine mallet clasped in his small hands. Everything was fuzzy. He apologized to Father, but he couldn’t remember what he apologized for. 

_ What did I say to him? _

The door to his room opened suddenly, and he tried to speak, but found it too painful to do so as his lungs expanded and pressed against his sore, cracked ribs. Velen walked up to his bedside and peered down at him as Anduin blinked rapidly to get his attention. Velen nodded to him and placed his large hand on top of his chest. 

“Deep breath,” Velen commanded. Anduin did, and found it incredibly painful as his ribs practically popped in protest against his lungs. The pain floated away within an instant, and Velen placed his hand down to the bottom of his ribs. He questioned his teacher with his eyes. “I need to see how bad your spine and legs are, I apologize, I’ve been neglecting them. How bad do they hurt?” Anduin managed a small shrug, unable to form words without losing breath. Velen picked up on this quickly and corrected his mistake. “Blink twice if it’s a ten, blink once if it’s a five.” Anduin blinked twice. Velen’s face turned sour as Anduin felt the flow of the Light burn and soothe his legs at the same time. 

With an intense, painful struggle, Anduin tried to lift his arm. Velen quickly pushed it back down and held his hand loosely.

“Squeeze my hand if you can,” He felt the Light in his fingers, too, mending the bone. Slowly, his knuckles began to twitch and he closed his fingers around Velen’s. The flow of Light suddenly stopped, though, and Anduin nearly shrieked in anger. It hurt so _ much!  _ Why was he stopping? “I’m sorry, my boy. I must focus my efforts elsewhere. I cannot heal you fully, for it could only make you worse.” Anduin understood the efforts and the consequences of too much Light in one’s system, but he really didn’t care. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Velen said quietly as Anduin glared with glassy eyes at his teacher. “I know it hurts. Here, let me put you to sleep. You won’t have to feel any pain that way.” Velen tapped Anduin’s forehead, and he was out like a light before he could even protest. 

He did feel bad, making Anduin sleep so much through the initial healing process- but Velen would rather make him sleep than suffer. He was incredibly concerned for what he’d have to tell Varian, if he was unable to properly heal Anduin’s spine, the boy would be paralyzed from the waist down. As well as his knees, those were worse. Almost crushed beyond repair, Velen knew that Anduin wouldn’t come out of this without some life-long pain. 

He wouldn’t know how to break the news to Varian that if he didn’t find another source for healing fast enough, Anduin wouldn’t be able to walk. He’d either be confined to a chair, or Mekkatorque would create some strange biometrical enhancements for the boy as gnomes experimented with beside their gadgets quite often. Velen had been working hard for healing besides the Light that could be helpful to Anduin instead of hurting him, he’d found a conclusion in either druids or the pandaren mistweavers. The mistweavers of the Temple of the Red Crane were close and within teleportation distance that wouldn’t hurt the prince too much if he went through it. The difference in the arcane intensities in portals really was shockingly noticeable. The farther the distance, the stronger the arcane connection. 

The door to Anduin’s chambers opened, but the person behind it froze in their steps. Velen turned to regard the intruder and ask them to leave, but held his tongue. 

Admiral Taylor stood in the doorway, his armor dented and battered, dirt-smudged across his face and bruise-like bags under his eyes. He was stunned, his eyes locked on Anduin’s still form, and his armor was beginning to look exhaustingly heavy on his broad frame. Taylor cleared his throat awkwardly and carefully took a step forward at Velen’s accepting nod. The warrior dragged up a chair beside Anduin’s bedside and nearly collapsed in it. He leaned his arms against his thighs and simply looked at the injured prince. 

He was silent for a long time, and Velen didn’t provide conversation. He was mourning and staring, something that Varian did every time he decided to prowl around Anduin’s chambers, needlessly tidying things up to distract himself, staring out the window, resisting the urge to punch holes into the walls. 

At least Taylor didn’t pace.

From what Velen understood from their interactions and from what Anduin had told him, he’d known Taylor since he was a soldier- granted, Anduin was only a toddler then, but he grew up with the man. They spent a lot of time together apparently. He was always surrounded by guards and soldiers, it was no surprise when he’d started to get along with them. 

“I shouldn’t have let him go from Binan,” Taylor’s voice was rough and shaky, and he wiped a hand across his jaw, staring down at the boy who took labored breaths. He moved his hand carefully and took hold of Anduin’s, pressing his forehead to his frail fingers. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d acted sooner.” His tone was cut off by the growing thickness in his throat, causing his voice to crack. 

“Seeing him like this is not easy,” Velen replied carefully, sending a small bit of healing to Anduin’s hands so when people held onto them it wouldn’t cause the prince further pain. “But we cannot change what was inevitable.” Taylor looked up at him with such a fearful and confused look, Velen would think that he changed into a completely different person than that of the hard, gruff-like Admiral he’d been introduced to initially.

“You mean-?” His grip nearly tightened on Anduin’s hand, but he let his gauntlet clutch the bed sheets instead, nearly ripping them. “Of course he would, of course- he  _ still _ would,” The sigh wracked his shoulders as he laughed with no mirth, a hollow sound leaving his chest as his eyes grew more and more wet. “You know,” he started, pinching the bridge of his nose as he reaffirmed his grip on Anduin’s hand. “I used to always tell him he could be a hero, that he could be something great,” He shook his head, “I didn’t want him to be a martyr.” Taylor rubbed his thin wrist and squeezed his hand gently.

“Taylor. He is not dead. He is no martyr, and he  _ will _ rise again and show the Horde that he will not be silenced so easily, that he believes in true peace. He has the blood of his father within him, Anduin is too stubborn to die.” The Admiral peered up at him from behind Anduin’s hand, unsure 0f Velen’s attempt at reassurance.

“So what do we do then?” He asked quietly, studying the prince’s bruised, pale face. He moved his free hand and brushed his hair back. 

“We pray he recovers fully, and that I can find other solutions fast enough for him.” Velen stood slowly and brushed his robes down. Taylor raised an eyebrow at him. 

_ “Other solutions?  _ What other solutions?” Taylor laughed incredulously, “Can you not heal him yourself? Varian will never let another healer near him other than you! Those medics were nearly on the edge of Lo’gosh’s claws!” The Admiral began to panic slightly once he realized that Velen was  _ serious.  _

“Varian will need to cooperate if Anduin is to walk again. I cannot heal his wounds all on my own lest I make them worse- he must be able to self-heal as well. If my Light invades his body too much, it could hurt him.” Velen headed for the door, planning on his first location

“If he’s to  _ walk  _ again?!” Taylor let go of Anduin’s hand and shot up, his brows twitching angrily. Velen was already out the door by the time Taylor’s other shouts echoed down the hallway. 

He had no time to sit around and argue. He needed to do this quickly, though running the risk of Anduin getting worse while he was gone, it needed to be done. The mistweavers were his only option, and the ones in the recently revitalized Temple of the Red Crane were close enough to comply. Anduin also mentioned studying there under the celestial as a student, so Velen was hopeful for a positive response. 

Having no mount of his own, nor the stables being able to find one large enough for a draenei his size, he elected to borrow Reverence for a little while. The animal was incredibly large and no doubt bred to be a warhorse- he remembered when Anduin gushed to him about his new companion just a few months after their official meetings. From his tales, Velen learned that Reverence was a gentle giant. Apparently he was incredibly young for a horse his size, so he must have been some special experiment by the breeders, and Varian bought him at a high price. If he could remember Anduin’s exact words, Reverence was around five years old. 

Reverence sniffed at his hand curiously as he led him from the stable. It was clearly strange for him to be riding a horse when he’d only ridden on elekks for a minor part of his life- but he neglected to bring his mount when he’d been called frantically to Pandaria. He was bulky enough to carry Velen, so he awkwardly swung himself up onto his saddle. He couldn’t fit his hooves into the stirrups, so he opted to just gently nudge him in the side of his belly instead. Reverence snorted and chirped like he was laughing and began a quick trot. 

“Do you know where the Temple of the Red Crane is?” Reverence neighed softly and picked up the pace a little. That must have been a relieving yes. Velen had no clue where it was- despite how large the Temple actually was, locating it was hard enough. He had no sense of direction, truly. 

He paid no attention to his swampy surroundings as Reverence began to gallop faster towards the Temple, and Velen was surprised how close they were to it. He’d blanked out thinking too much about how he was going to transport Anduin if they accepted him and more importantly- how he’d break the news to Varian. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that told him he’d flat out refuse and demand that Velen take care of him in the Landing, which would lead to Anduin’s slow and painful demise. 

He would not wish that kind of suffering upon anyone, least of all his most precious student.

The grounds of the monastery were grand and magnificent, Velen hadn’t felt the opulence of something so majestic since he’d visited Stormwind for the first time, or even Teldrassil- Ironforge was quite a sight to behold as well. He hadn’t seen Pandaria in its entirety, but he was sure that Anduin would be eager to tell him about his bold adventures across the continent. According to Varian, he’d been all over. Alone and stranded, of course. But, knowing the young prince, he probably thought that being on his own on a new, unknown continent could be his explorative playground. 

He moved his leg over and stepped off of the horse, tying his lead to a fencepost just outside the steps to the monastery. There were open ground floors leading into the temple as well, but the steps lead to different platforms of the building. The architecture was cracked as well as much of the landscape, uprooted stumps and shrubs clearly visible as well as shattered statues still continued to be cleaned up. The earth itself was a healthy green and the dirt felt rich and soft under his hooves. The Temple seemed to have made a full recovery. 

Thank the Light for small mercies. 

“Hello, my friend! May I help you?” Velen faced the voice and found a tall and large pandaren man, smiling up at him with a rather large spear strapped to his back. He wore his formal temple robes over his armor. He must have been a temple guard, then? 

“Greetings. I come searching for your Temple healers aid in a sensitive matter.” Velen spoke vaguely, raising a hairy eyebrow at the open, exposed location they were in. He was certain there were no adventurers lurking about- and yet he couldn’t help feel as if they were suddenly being watched. Of course, the temple was an open ground to all though its teachings were exclusive to the students they decided to take on, but Velen still didn’t trust the fact that a Horde spy could be lurking and could take Anduin’s condition back to Hellscream. 

“Would you like to speak privately with our mistweavers?” The guard asked, and Velen nodded, tucking his hands and letting his sleeves flow together. The Prophet knew that he looked very out of place- traveling alone with no guards to speak of, vulnerable to attack, but his faith in the Light was strong. It would protect him if he willed it. He was not afraid of enemies at this point- he just needed to speak with these mistweavers. 

He was led to a windowless room beside the pagoda that overlooked a pond of nesting cranes. It was still bright despite its closed-off structure, and Velen kept his guard up just as a pandaren woman in flowing robes was led into a room, escorted by two other pandaren in the same robes, one male and one female. The guard was beside her again, and his spear was in hand. 

“My brother tells me you come for the aid of my mistweavers and I. How can we help?” She smiled, clasping her paws together in front of her. Velen bowed his head in respect and began to speak. 

“Prince Anduin Llane Wrynn of the Alliance has been grievously injured. I was told by him previously that he’d once been a student here, correct?” The woman began to look slightly distraught, and the guard put a hand on her shoulder with his own sorrow etched onto his hard face. The mistweavers behind them bowed their heads in respect. 

“So it is true… Anduin has been hurt. We heard through word of mouth, but nothing confirmed it. Is he still…” the woman cleared her throat, “he’s still alive, yes? That’s why you came here,” She corrected herself, her voice strong and yet warbled. “Of course we can help you heal him. Anduin was one of our own, once.” Velen let a small smile spread on his face. 

“Hopefully King Varian will be as gracious as you are to be less protective of his young son, then. The persuasion will prove difficult, but if all goes well, I will have him teleported here by early dawn tomorrow.” A strange look crossed the temple guard’s face, his hand tightening on his sister’s shoulder. 

“We hope for the best outcome, Prophet Velen.” 

Velen left feeling confused as to how the man knew who he was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOY HAVE I GOT SOME THINGS TO SAY.  
> Stick around if you want to hear it. 
> 
> ONE, thank you so very much for being patient with me and I'm sorry it took damn near eleven days to post another chapter. I've been struggling with writer's block again for a while, but thank god the next few chapters won't be super-duper story-driven and they'll just focus on Anduin's recovery and the growing tenacity between the Horde and the Alliance. 
> 
> TWO. Okay. Here's the ringer. 
> 
> Apparently there's an app that I just found out about hours ago on Tumblr despite this damn thing being up for a year. This app takes AO3 Author's work (this is NOT me accusing them of plagiarism by the way, but I'll tell you why I'm so upset with it) and posts it onto a Fanfiction Library. That's fine, okay. Cool. Handy-dandy. The only problem I have with the app is that it (allegedly, according to negative reviews) has bookos of ads and it asks for tips and even offers subscriptions. THIS IS WHY IT BOTHERS ME. IT'S MAKING MONEY OFF OF MINE AND THOUSANDS OF OTHER PEOPLES WORK. THIS IS RIDICULOUS. Unfortunately, AO3 can't even do anything because of the fact that the work is credited. Good god, this is incredibly frustrating. 
> 
> Many AO3 authors have locked their accounts and works for this (very understandable) reason but I can't find it in my heart to do that to you guys nor do I even want to. I'm going to keep posting publicly despite it being stolen WITHOUT MY PERMISSION and being made money off of. I love writing and creating content for you guys way too much to give a damn, despite me feeling incredibly insulted (and my damaged pride) by this person's lack of fucking brains. Make an app for a fanfiction library and put works on it. Fine. But good god. DO NOT MAKE MONEY OFF OF OTHER PEOPLE'S HARD WORK.
> 
> Please, please just read our works here. Please. It is incredibly discouraging to find people reading my work on an app that doesn't even support me as a writer on this website. Come here to AO3 where we won't assault you with ads or begging for tips and subscriptions. This site is free, just read it here. Please. Don't support this app. 
> 
> I'm sorry if I come off as irrational or rude, I'm just incredibly frustrated and discouraged at the moment and I can't fathom why someone would think that this is even a good idea. I hope this doesn't affect my work ethic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter.   
> Comments and kudos greatly appreciated.  
> See you next time <3<3<3<3<3


	30. If He's To Live Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velen confronts Varian about Anduin's recovery.

_ I’m so tired… what time is it?  _

Anduin’s lids fluttered open as he stared blearily up at his ceiling, the light of the moons was nonexistent to the pitch blackness that was his chambers. He had to squint through his blurred eyes just to make out the foot of his bed. 

For some reason, his heart was beating rapidly and his still-healing muscles were painfully tense, like his body was ready to leap into a fight. He felt an extreme sense of terror grip him, and he couldn’t explain why. The adrenaline was coursing through him and it was agony.

Anduin let out a sudden strangled gasp, feeling heavy pressure on his chest, hardly able to breathe. It was like someone was sitting directly on top of him and pressing into his lungs. He struggled to take in air as he went to move his head. He couldn’t even twist his neck. 

He tried hard to move his upper chest. His ribs hurt the faster he tried to breathe. Anxiety pitted low in his stomach and his eyes began to water. A cotton-clogged sensation made itself at home in his throat. He went to move his arms. His first two fingers were the only limbs that responded. His legs were numb under the thick comforter.

_ Why can’t I move?  _

He went to look around again and found that he could only blink rapidly.

_ Move! _

It only took a few moments to even realize that he was still just asleep. Only… halfway. 

Anduin felt himself give a full-body flinch when thunderous clacking footsteps echoed outside his door. None of his limbs actually moved. The footsteps were louder and louder, almost deafening by the time they reached the outside of his door. 

The hinges creaked noisily as the person crept into the room. They kept a slim hand on the handle of the door and simply stared down at him. The figure was tall and foreboding but had a womanly shape, but with her slick demeanor- Anduin could only guess one person that could make him feel such fear. 

She flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and smiled with dark lips. She shut the door and sauntered to his bedside. 

“My dear, sweet prince. It surely has been  _ so _ long hasn’t it?” Her honey-laced voice made him cringe inwardly as she planted herself on the side of his bed. Her sharp nails scratched him as she swept his stray bangs out of his face. Anduin squeezed his eyes shut as she pinched his cheeks. “You’ve grown up so well.” She fawned, a sharp grin crossing her face. 

Anduin wheezed pathetically, practically hyperventilating. He wanted to scream and cry. His lips wouldn’t move and his throat was choked up. Anduin could feel her talons crawling across his upper torso, prodding dangerously close to his more severe wounds and tapping at the bandages on his face. 

“I wonder…” she gripped his wrist and it  _ burned.  _ He heard her chuckle, as if she was reveling in his pain. “Can you feel my wrath, princeling? It’s oh-so-subtle, isn’t it? You're just terrified. Aren’t you?” He could feel her hot breath close to his face. Anduin wanted so desperately to run away and crawl into his father’s arms, to save him like he did a long time ago. Five years had hardly passed, and yet it felt like a lifetime. 

Anduin heard an inhuman growl next to his ear, and his muscles jumped. 

_ “Aren’t you?”  _

Anduin felt a pressure building in his chest, and he could hear some sort of metal tapping or… or dripping. The pain on one wrist spread to two, and then the weight on his chest shifted. Anduin took the opportunity. 

The built-up agony in his ribs pushed forth in a brutal, terrified scream.

Onyxia, suddenly in her dragon form, hovered above him, peering down with glowing orange eyes- a snarl wrinkling her snout as a cavernous maw of razor-sharp teeth stared down at him. His throat was nearly ripped raw with the force of his unmuted vocals. 

His eyes seemed to fly open for the second time- his room was brighter, the curtains pulled back and he could  _ see.  _ The door was wide open, and there were two guards over him, one holding down his wrists and the other guard pressing down against his bandaged, bleeding chest. 

His throat was so dry he began to cough. He could hear more footsteps and the arm across his chest disappeared. Anduin took in heaps of breath when he found his airways cleared. He felt gross and clammy with the cold-sweat dampening across his skin. The guard let go of his wrists and he laid there, still. Breathing. His eyes were blank as they stared up at the stone ceiling, ears ringing.

Father’s face came into view and Anduin looked over slightly to address him. His voice came back into focus once Anduin had stared at him for a minute straight, confused as to what he was saying. 

“Anduin  _ say something, _ damn it!” 

He reached up with his trembling hand and grasped blindly for his father’s. He took it and held it close to his chest as he searched Anduin’s face. 

“I saw-” Was all Anduin had the strength to choke out, the tears building behind his eyes finally spilling over. Father pulled him tight against his shoulder and Anduin bit back the cry of pain that threatened to spill from his lips, burying his face into his neck. He didn’t mind the pain as long as Father didn’t leave. He didn’t want to be left alone, not with  _ her _ lurking about in the back of his mind. 

She would come back. Anduin knew she would. Onyxia never truly stayed dead, she was always lurking. In the back or the forefront of his mind- she always lingered. Her influence was still there, he’d catch himself provoking habits that he thought were long gone. Hiding his arms, legs and neck, checking his face for marks- staying out of the nobles’ way, keeping his gloves shoved tight along his wrists.  _ You are not worthy to touch anyone with your filth, let alone the stones we walk upon!  _

“What did you see, Anduin?” Father asked carefully, lessening his grip on him. Anduin pushed his face into his neck and shook his head. He didn’t want to dare speak her name, lest she burst her way into the room now and lay waste to them all. 

_ You’re being ridiculous you impudent, imbecilic whelp.  _

_ I know.  _

She was dead and would not return.  _ She’s dead and will not return.  _

“Did you have a nightmare?” Father asked, his tone implying that he was becoming impatient with Anduin’s silence. His shoulders slumped as he leaned back and looked up at him. He nodded and tightened his hand around his father’s. “Do you want to talk about it?” Anduin shook his head quickly. He didn’t want to give his father the reminder either. He hated black dragons enough as it was. Sparking old ire wouldn’t either of them any good. 

Father seemed to give up quickly, not wanting to push him. He nodded and pecked his forehead. For a few minutes Anduin didn’t look at him, preferring to stare at his blankets, but then there was a gentle knock at the door. 

“Come in.” Father said, annoyed. Anduin’s grin was painful when his eyes fell upon the prophet. Though Anduin couldn’t feel the Light within himself, the soothing burst from his mentor calmed him greatly. 

“Your majesty, I must speak to you.” He gestured to the hallway and Father squeezed his hand. Anduin watched them disappear behind the door and simply turned on his bedside, feeling slightly nauseous. 

* * *

“I’ve made interesting discoveries,” Velen started once the king had stepped into the hall. He cocked an eyebrow and waited for the prophet to elaborate. “The mistweavers of the Temple of the Red Crane have agreed to proceed with the healing of your son-”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait-” Varian interrupted, “what do you mean? I thought you could heal him?”

“I see Admiral Taylor did not see it fit to inform you. Perhaps he was too distracted.”

“What does this have to do with Taylor?”

“That is unimportant at the moment, your son’s health, however, is. I sought out further aid for Anduin because my Light cannot heal him fully. He must be tended to slowly by an outsource of magic to help him along.”

“Why on Azeroth can’t the Light heal him? Isn’t that its job?!” 

“The Light is a guide and a friend. We take what they offer, and do not ask for more unless it is dire-”

_ “This is dire!”  _ Lo’gosh yelled, marching toward him. Velen put a hand up to calm him, and the wolf eerily obeyed despite the gnashing of his teeth behind his lips threatening to snarl right in his face.

“They have agreed to help him, but the environment. You have seen it, yes? It is still under heavy repairs from the Sha infestation, and it has effects on even the healthiest of people. It’s exterior outlook betrays its inside disturbance,” Velen briefly remembered how rich the dirt had felt under his hooves, how healthy the grass had looked despite the disturbed feeling he hadn’t noticed settled in his chest when he’d left the temple after his conversation with the guard and his sister.

 “I would not entrust Anduin’s wellbeing there,” He concluded grimly, cursing himself for overlooking such a disturbed place so easily, “I sought another place for him to heal and found someplace safer for Anduin to recover,” He gestured vaguely to the northeast. “The Temple of the Jade Serpent is well-guarded and unaffected by the Sha, despite the Serpent’s Heart being right next to it I investigated thoroughly and found no evidence of any Sha manifestation on the temple grounds nor inside the temple itself.” 

_ How had I not noticed the lingering corruption within the Red Crane’s Sanctum? The infestation could have killed the prince the moment he stepped out of the portal. _

“So far, you mean,” Lo’gosh disagreed, “The Sha doesn’t just slowly manifest, it happens in an instant! What if Anduin is at the Temple and and outbreak just appeared-” 

“I have taken every precaution to see that the prince will be safe there. You have seen it Varian, and so have I. You hear it every day. The Horde presses the attack ever-further on these shores.” 

Lo’gosh calmed enough for Varian to reclaim his place. He let out a deep sigh and looked out of the thinly paned windows, the artillery fire quiet and calm. 

For now. 

Troteman’s prediction was that they’d attack by nightfall under the cover of fog. Varian knew he was right- he could see their copters lingering in the distance, engaging in battle with the Skyfire in an attempt to bypass the blockade. He wondered if many had managed to slip through yet. The siege tanks on the opposite end of the beach were stagnant and the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. 

The pros and cons of Anduin leaving to recover somewhere else. Somewhere away from where he was most protected. He couldn’t volley an entire platoon of Alliance soldiers within the Jade Temple without provoking outrage or some sort of complaint by the Temple’s governing body. The Elder Sages, if that were correct. They had their own guardians and protectors. 

Varian just didn’t trust them enough to keep Anduin safe, even if he paid them. But letting Anduin stay here was just as dangerous, even more so. If he were moved in secret to this temple, then the Horde would have no idea where to even search for him if word got out that he was being moved from the safety of the heart of the Alliance on Pandaria. 

The other concern was the neutrality of the Temples, the fact that anyone could visit them. If Anduin went he’d need to stay heavily hidden and Varian couldn’t risk personal guards giving him away in such an open area. 

The only pros he could think of was less stress imbibed upon his son, how he could focus on himself before others… hopefully. 

No, probably not. 

“Velen, I need you to take this into consideration,” he began slowly, fists clenching around his gauntlets, the metal creaking. “If Anduin travels to this temple, how am I to know if he is safe or not?” 

“Use your spies to keep an eye on the grounds. They will alert you if anything goes awry.” Varian nodded, mentally smacking himself for not thinking of such a thing before he debated every good and bad thing about it. If Anduin was in trouble they’d be able to nab the boy and get him to safety before and harm befell him. 

“I want Anduin to have every chance to have a healthy recovery… if you think that this is it… then I trust you, old friend.”

“I would never put my student in danger, your majesty,” Velen pat his shoulder, “I have already sent a letter back to the mistweavers of the Red Crane to tell them that if they are still willing, to accompany the prince to the Jade Temple instead. I am hoping for a positive reply, even though I had already arranged to have him transported there instead.” 

“Should I keep an eye out for a courier then?” 

“Please,” Velen nodded, peering back toward the doors to Anduin’s chambers. “Did something happen while I was away?” 

“I’m assuming he had some sort of nightmare or hallucination. He won’t tell me what frightened him. I heard screaming and I raced to check on him, and he could have hurt himself if the guards hadn’t intervened,” Varian’s shoulders slumped, “I’m worried about him. Even more so now. He just won't  _ tell me _ why.” 

“Perhaps I can help him, I must do my daily check-in anyhow, so I will inform him of this upcoming change. Thank you for your cooperation, Varian. I know that this is the right choice.”

“Just don’t make me regret it, Velen.” 

* * *

Anduin turned his head ever-so-slightly when the door opened again. He let another smile cross his face, small and pained. He’d heard the yelling but not clear words- only muddled and soft-spoken. He didn’t feel well enough to try and eavesdrop. 

Velen sat by his bedside and slid a hand under his shoulders, helping him sit up as he fluffed the pillows to support his back comfortably. He pushed Anduin forward to tend to the wounds under his bandages, and Anduin felt the slow ache creep up his back. His bones were still fractured and fragile and the slightest jostle left him cringing in pain. 

Anduin was tempted to ask what he and his father had been talking about in the hallway to make him explode so quickly, but he still couldn’t quite find the air in his lungs to speak an entire sentence. Velen must have been reading his mind. Within an instance, the crushing ache in his ribs was mended and he found he could take, for the first time in weeks, a deep breath. 

His mentor must have been holding his tongue. He looked as if he was itching to speak, but was too focused on healing him further to distract himself with a conversation. 

He closed his eyes and tried to relax as the Light stretched itself over his bones and organs, covering his limbs like a blanket as Velen focused. Fresh bandages were wrapped over him as his teacher set him down again. The prophet then sat there and simply stared down at his comforter. 

Anduin found the courage to finally speak. 

“Are you alright, master?” 

“How have you been eating?” He completely avoided the question and reached forward to pat his concave stomach. Anduin grimaced. He hadn’t felt hungry at all in the past week he’d been bedridden. For some reason, his mind and his stomach were in tune with leaving him feeling completely numb to hunger. 

“I haven’t.” Anduin answered quietly, waiting for the shocked, incredulous look that was bound to be shoved his way. 

“You do not seem bothered by this, nor have I heard you ask for food,” Anduin shrugged in response and leaned his head back. “You do not have an appetite?” Velen asked carefully, searching his student’s face with his bright, piercing eyes. Anduin grimaced and shrugged again. The prophet leaned back and sighed. “It is not surprising. You’ve been in and out of sleep for the past week ever since you’ve returned.” 

“What else do you need to say? Does it have anything to do with what Father was yelling about?” Anduin moved along quickly, not wanting to talk about food any longer lest he become nauseous. Food was the last thing he wanted. 

Velen chuckled and took his arm again, patting his hand. 

“I have news, whether it’s exciting to you or not will be debatable, but…” he tucked the comforter around his stomach. “You will be moved to another location for the duration of your healing.” Anduin perked up quickly.

“Father approved of this? Where am I going?” 

“I suppose that means you’re consenting to go, then,” Anduin nodded excitedly, a childish grin appearing quickly on his face. “Yes, your father approved. We will be moving you to the Temple of the Jade Serpent in a few days. Hopefully, that gives me enough time to at least have you be able to stand. You will be teleported there under heavy supervision. It would not do to have the Leylines traced.” 

“Father wants me away from the warfront.” 

_ He is too smart for his own good.  _

Velen nodded slowly, “He still wants you to stay here. He is at war with himself, I suppose, but he has allowed you to go under the supervision of spies watching your back.” Anduin chuckled. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know, last-minute change. I'm having Anduin go to the Jade Serpent Temple instead because it has significantly less corruption and it would better for his health. + It's super pretty and fleshed out and there's so much more to do there. 
> 
> Red Crane Temple when it's introduced isn't like, its former temple glory, + saurok. I recently played the area again and realized how dangerous it actually was and figured I'd change it. It just isn't safe for Anduin and there's no way I could have written it to be. I hope the change was justified well within the writing, Velen overlooking the Temple purely because of its magnificence and beauty and claiming it made a 'full recovery' and not realizing anything was wrong with it until after he left. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!  
> Comments and Kudos help me write faster and become inspired to create content for you <3<3<3<3


	31. Gather Your Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only been a week, but Anduin still doesn't feel quite as ready. 
> 
> Oh well.

Anduin awoke with a heavy weight across his stomach, and he realized that he’d fallen asleep sitting up the night prior after reading. He could see the book shut on the small table by the window. He was positioned upright, perfect enough for his father to pass out with his head weighing down on his middle. He took a deep breath and looked down at him. 

He had dark bags under his eyes and his thick brown hair was messily draped across his back. For some reason, his scar looked redder than usual- Anduin wrote it off as a trick of the light and brushed his hair back from his face, stroking his cheek. He tilted his head and heard a snore come from his slightly open mouth, and smiled. 

_ I haven’t seen you like this in a long time, father…  _

Anduin looked over and found his other hand encased by his father’s. He turned his palm and squeezed his fingers, brushing his thumb under the bags on his lower lid. His bare fingers were rough compared to his, which were uncallused and smooth from lack of sword training.

He mindlessly began to pet the long hairs that were tucked behind his ear, wild and untamed and  _ definitely _ needing a thorough brushing. He gently tugged out some of the knots and calmed the cowlicks. He rubbed his thumb across the telltale scar that cut through his eyebrow. 

Sudden faint explosions knocked him from his still, peaceful morning. He turned his gaze toward the window and his hand curled into a fist into his father’s hair. He didn’t want to leave here, but at the same time, he didn’t want to stay. Artillery fire was a common sound, but not one that he liked. It meant that the frontliners were risking their lives again for a cause that… wasn’t honorable. Fighting to fight and fighting to prove a point is one thing. What is the reason for this war? For the fact that Garrosh is a tyrant? Anduin knew that, he knew it very well. He watched as Garrosh walked away from him when he was begging for help- and of course he had every right to not help him. 

He intended to kill him, after all. 

Anduin let the bitter, painful thoughts sweep from his mind as his door opened for what felt like the millionth time in the past few weeks and gave a weary smile towards his teacher. It had only been a few days since Velen had told him of his future relocation, and father had set a date for the end of the week…

Well, today really. It felt like it was still a week away, but in reality it was only a few hours. A small gathering of his things were packed into a small trunk in the corner. He didn’t need much, just a few week’s worth of clothes and a few necessities as well as a few books that Taylor had smuggled back from Stormwind for him, directly from the small bookshelf in his room. It had been a long time since he delved into the worn pages of his own personal library. 

Velen sat by the chair parked by his bedside, and Anduin was reluctant to move because of the king’s exhausted head pillowed in his lap, snoring away without a care. The prophet set down a ceramic cup and a small white bowl filled with cut up bits of fruit and what looked to be yogurt underneath. His stomach churned and he forced himself to look away with a faint, disgusted expression as his nose wrinkled from the overpowering scent of the tea and yogurt and tart fruit combined. The prince decided to focus on the man slumbering in his lap. 

“I don’t want to wake him…” Anduin whispered, surprised that his throat wasn’t sore, massaging his scalp as the wolf-like warrior nestled his face further into the comforter, his grip tightening on his hand. The weight was uncomfortable against his sore, injured thighs, but Anduin still couldn’t find it in his heart to disturb him. 

“I must tend to your wounds.” Velen insisted, leaning forward on his knees. Anduin winced at the pull of the bandages against the cuts still lingering on his back. Thankfully they didn’t openly bleed out anymore unless they were directly bothered and torn, like the nightmare he had a few days ago. It still frightened him to fall asleep each night, to take a nap- as if Onyxia would be waiting for him on the other side, ready to torment his sleep. 

Unfortunately she always was… getting a full night’s sleep was unheard of now, but thankfully he didn’t outright scream or flail like he did that first night. 

_ Suffering in silence is better than suffering in volume, _ Anduin thought bitterly.  _ I can’t waste precious time.  _

He noticed, though, that he’d woken up this previous night only once from a terror. Maybe his father had come in after that and had slept with him, chasing the nightmares away. 

Anduin huffed. Childish thoughts of heroes scaring away the demons. He was no child, despite his age, and he hated being treated as such. By his father, his found family- any of them. If they dared to treat him like a child… 

Anduin’s hand has unconsciously tightened in his father’s hair again, but not hard enough to wake him. He relaxed his fist immediately and returned to petting his head like a therapy dog.

_ Not that Lo’gosh would mind…  _

Even in his sleep, his father could switch personalities within an instance. Subtle changes that only Anduin could notice- Varian snored like a hog, Lo’gosh purred. 

_ Weirdo.  _ He smiled slightly as the purring began, a deep rumbling in his chest.  _ He’s like Genn, sleeping in his worgen form.  _

He felt Velen take his arm and gently squeeze the muscle to test the strength of the bone underneath. Anduin flinched and tried to pull it away as it flared with pain. It was soothed immediately by the Light, however it still burned underneath. He still couldn’t even feel his own Light. 

The absence of his magic was making the shadows in the back of his mind harder and harder to avoid, and once it noticed the emptiness of his mental barriers, it began to attack relentlessly. Maybe the void was the reason his nightmares were becoming more and more frequent. It was preying on the exposed, weak parts of his mind that he usually kept fortified. 

Not any longer. The Light failed to come to him when he asked of it, begged for it in his night terrors. To take him away, to free the heaving burden of fear from his back, its claws sinking deeper and deeper into his back the more he tried to run. 

Velen pushed his shoulder forward slightly and Anduin was brought back to the present. 

“The whispers continue to bother you? Have you been able to find your connection again?” He placed his long-nailed thumb against his forehead for a few seconds, and Anduin found the impending headache crawling away. 

“I haven’t. They plague my dreams each night,” Anduin shook his head and squeezed his father’s hand again when he snorted and mumbled in his sleep. The prince let a soft smile grace his face, “He’s never emitted such a peaceful aura before…” Anduin noticed quickly that he could still latch onto others consciousness, feeling their emotions more strongly than before. It was a common tactic to soothe panicked patients, and the easiest by far. 

Anduin did a double-take when he found Velen staring at him with a soft smile. 

“What?” He asked, curling forward slightly as his mentor prodded his back. He chuckled and tugged at a piece of his long hair. 

“You are making him sleep. You still retain some power?” Anduin looked down at his father. There wasn’t anything wrong, he was just sleeping. He wasn’t  _ forcing him  _ to stay asleep-

“Okay. Maybe I am making him sleep. But not with the Light-” Anduin admitted slyly. He didn’t exactly need the Light to cast a calming spell. There were plenty of variations in druidic and arcanic that were meant to calm elementals or animals-

Anduin found that the animal one worked best to sate Lo’gosh. 

It knocked them out like they were struck in the neck with a moose tranquilizer. Hopefully it wouldn’t disturb them. 

_ At least my magic isn’t fully suppressed.  _ He sighed, day by day noticing that he could conjure a weak levitation spell that was taught to him by Aunt Jaina. He hadn’t seen her since he’d visited her in Dalaran. From what he heard and from what Father had rambled about while he was half-awake, she was enraged and inconsolable. 

_ “Because of him!” Father’s hardly-contained yells echoed across the chamber, voice broken and desperate, startling Anduin from his half-awake slumber. “Because that… that thing…. That monster had to raise his axe against a child-!”  _

He blacked out after that, too tired to listen further despite how curious he was about what he said next. He betted that he could just simply ask the guard- they were always uneasy about Father’s tangents, volatile or not. 

“Are you prepared to leave today?” If he meant physically, then no. He wasn’t prepared. He hadn’t stood since before the injury, and while his upper body wasn’t completely damaged and his organs seemed to be faring… slightly well, his legs were still a complete no-go, and Anduin was nervous. Thanks to Velen’s powerful magic the pain he would feel from his shattered bones was numbed and lessened. He was eternally grateful for his master’s patience and kindness. He’d been more unconscious than conscious in the weeks before this, but it had only been a month since his initial injury. 

He didn’t really have much sense of the time since the incident, weeks or months- his brain was still muffled at times. He had his night terror only two days ago, Velen had set out to find mistweavers four days before that and had spent it in and out of Lion’s Landing commuting with the Temples that accepted the plea for help. 

Light, it was all so confusing. 

“I… you’re not going to have me walk, are you?”

“Of course not, I need to do more extensive healing on your legs so that the mistweavers will have an easier time handling your injuries equally, but I need your father to move...” Anduin looked down and frowned, lifting the spell. Father began to twitch immediately, and he stretched his arms first before prying his eyes open to stare up at Anduin. The prince smiled softly and Velen cleared his throat. Father looked at the prophet and groaned. 

“I apologize, Prophet.” He apologized groggily, picking up his head and switching the hand that he was holding. Anduin folded his now free arm around his stomach as Velen pulled the comforter away and grimaced. 

It was the first time Anduin had actually  _ seen _ and  _ looked at _ his legs since before… this. 

They were thin and pale and yet  _ red.  _ Dark bruises spread across the flesh, deep reds and purples marred his knees and spreading far enough under toward his aching hips, the cut-off trousers he’d been put in hiding the ugly mess. 

What was worse was the fact that his skin was… it looked as if something had been imprinted or branded onto him. Waves and twists and mazes of red and light pink from scars that had healed, skin that was wrinkled that was smashed and twisted and pulled. 

It was  _ disgusting.  _

Anduin tried to quell the nausea that had begun to build again in his stomach and turned his head away quickly, squeezing his father’s hand. He had that  _ look  _ on his face- one Anduin hated. 

He was sad, and he was  _ pitying  _ him. 

Anduin felt his teeth begin to grind together in frustration. His breathing began to pick up as he felt hot tears build in his eyes. He inhaled shakily through his nose and leaned over, pillowing his head on his father’s shoulder. He wanted to tell him not to be upset because he was going to be- in the long run, at least-  _ just fine.  _

_ Just don’t feel worse or I will.  _ He thought, slightly annoyed that he would let himself be bothered over a simple look passed by his father, his parent- the one person who was  _ supposed  _ to be worried sick over him. 

Before he knew it Velen’s healing session was over and he was guided to sit completely upright on his sore, recently healed, fragile spine, leaning against his father’s shoulder. 

“How does this feel, can you sit up by yourself?” Anduin, face as white as a sheet, shook his head fervently. 

Light, the pain was  _ excruciating,  _ like his ribs were a boulder tied to a dead stick _.  _ He couldn’t even hold his own weight upright enough to breathe properly, let alone  _ sit.  _

He clung to his father’s arm as he was helped back down, and the relief he felt when he could sink into his soft, fluffed pillows was almost heaven. Father placed a hand on his arm as Velen muttered that he would be back before he swiftly departed. 

Father seemed to notice the untouched food sitting on the nightstand, and picked up the surprisingly still warm cup of tea. The steam was no longer flying out of the cup, but it had retained its warmth. He held it out and Anduin looked at it. 

No doubt the look on his face was begging his father not to force him to eat. He just wasn’t hungry at all- and the thought of food made him sick. 

Anduin physically leaned away when Father brought the cup closer. He sighed and rolled his eyes at the prince’s theatrics and held the cup out again. 

“Please, Anduin? You haven’t eaten properly in a month- you’re damn near skin and bones.” Back when he was half asleep for the majority of the time, he distinctly remembered when they managed to force at least a little bit of broth down his throat. 

His stomach did not enjoy it. 

Throwing up with your bones shattered and completely bedridden could certainly be labeled as… an experience. 

“Please, for me?” 

Anduin huffed a short breath and took the cup, the ceramic shaking in his weak, bandaged hands. He clasped it tightly and brought it to his nose, smelling it. Roasted barley, something the Pandaren were fond of- Ren and Lina especially, aside from their brews that he wasn’t allowed to drink. When he was at the Red Crane temple he found Alanhang and Nadaya sharing a pot every morning as well. He’d had it once or twice and it wasn’t terrible. But, it was incredibly toasty with bitter undertones, and Anduin didn’t know if he could actually stomach it- or even take a drink. 

He took a careful sip and grimaced at the strong taste, pressing his lips together. He shook his head and handed the cup back, clearing his throat as his stomach rejected the taste. Father frowned and reached over to pet his hair- the same thing he’d been doing earlier. If he was trying to be comforting, it was working. 

“I’m sorry this happened, son.” Father mumbled, standing up and placing the cup back onto the table. He leaned over and kissed his head, squeezing his shoulder gently as Velen shuffled back into the room with a mage behind him. 

_ That’s-  _

The rude mage from the Shrine! His face looked even more tired than before, and the robes he donned were that of the Pandaren instead of directly representing Stormwind or the Alliance. His shrewd expression softened slightly at the sight of the prince, though his eyes were still hard. 

“One of our champion’s has agreed to directly portal his highness to the Temple under your final order, your majesty.” Father tugged his wild hair back and tied it up, fixing his leathers to look less rumpled and crinkled. Anduin winced. Sleeping in leathers was  _ not _ comfortable. At all. Whatsoever. 

“How are we to bring him through if he cannot stand or even sit up without support?” 

“Have you never carried your child before?” The mage sneered sarcastically as he began to ready the portal. 

“I don’t want to hurt him-” 

“It’s only a short trip, your majesty. I’m sure the mistweavers can fix whatever is broken.” Anduin could tell that Father was getting more and more angry with the mages’ disrespect and callousness. His fists were clenched hard, but Anduin moved and took hold of his wrist. Father looked down at him, confused, and Anduin just shook his head. His face fell as he waved the two men on the other side of the room away and picked up a folded piece of clothing settled atop one of the tables. It was a soft cotton tunic, loose enough so it wouldn’t pull at the bandages on his arms or chest. 

It was almost embarrassing having to have help putting his clothes on- in front of his teacher and a stranger, no less. 

Anduin clenched the soft sleeve in his palm as Father moved him over enough to have the prince wrap his arms over his shoulders. He seemed to struggle where to put his hand on his back or his legs- he didn’t want to hurt Anduin further. 

“Just pick him up, Wrynn!” Lo’gosh whipped his head around and snarled. 

“I don’t want to hurt him!” He seethed at the mage, pressing his hand gently to the side of his ribs, Anduin’s back cradled perfectly in the crook of his arm. 

Anduin yelped and shut his mouth quickly as he began to lift him with his hands pressed directly under his deeply bruised and broken knees, pressing his forehead into his shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut. Father ceased lifting him completely and looked down at Anduin. 

_ He can’t even carry me without- _

“Are you alright?” Anduin shook his head but took a deep breath.

“Just keep- just keep going, okay? We can’t do this any other way.” The prince panted, nails digging into his leathers as his father lifted him again, slowly off of the bed. He squeezed his arms tighter around his father’s neck and focused on breathing through the pain. 

Anduin thanked the Light Father decided against walking as heavily as he usually did, opting to shift his weight better so he wouldn’t jostle the boy in his arms. He could hear the portal’s shifting magics getting closer and braced himself. He never did well with portal travel, not often traveling in it. For his own safety and the fact that teleportation could be tracked through leylines, Anduin always took to ships or horseback or gryphon to travel. 

The moment Father walked through the portal, it felt as if his bones had been shattered all over again.

The scream that managed to escape his lips died out halfway through due to his sheer will to be quiet, a full-body shock and shiver of agony coursing through his veins as he was carried through the portal. The focus on deep breathing was gone as he panted, recovering from the shock as his limbs trembled, nails indented in his father’s light armor. His eyes were struck wide as he stared into nothing, his father halting just as he nearly dropped the prince with all of his shaking.

“Anduin-  _ Anduin!  _ You need to calm down-” Velen’s palm settled against his back as he quickly vanquished the pain with a burst of Light. Enough to calm Anduin slightly to realize he’d nearly flung himself out of his father’s hold. He flinched against the burn and yet welcomed it- willing to take anything over the painful shock he just felt… 

He turned his head away from his father’s shoulder and winced as Velen’s Light caused his vision to blur. The prophet ceased, and Anduin was glad to find the arcane exposure gone from his body and the normal pain replaced it. 

Optimistically, he’d take the regular pain over going through another portal any day. He panted slightly and tried to distract himself by looking around. 

It was still early enough for not many monks or disciples to be hanging around the grounds, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Anduin could hardly see and yet the vast walls and statues and structures of the temple had already caught his intrigue. They must have teleported just inside the gate, because he could see the silhouettes of the people who were receiving him were waiting just down the path in a courtyard. 

Anduin squinted to make out their faces, but it was just too far and too dark to tell their features- they were unmistakably pandaren, though. He rested his head back against his father’s shoulder and sighed. He noticed how the pain- how he could consider everyday agony to be  _ normal  _ while it could send a man to his knees within seconds. Velen would reassure him that he was strong for being able to endure, but Anduin realized that he was just becoming numb to it. When he woke up it didn’t surprise him. When he moved an arm and it twinged it barely caused a reaction like it did weeks before, fresh out of the coma. 

They were walking down a hill, passing by a large building next to an opened fence with a bunch of kites. The kitemaster must have still been asleep. Light, what time was it? 

“Anduin stay awake, okay?” Father said suddenly, nudging his temple with his chin. 

“I’m awake!” Anduin groaned, pushing further into his neck, “just… just trying to get used to it… to this.” He took another deep breath and tightened his arms around his shoulders. 

“You’ll have plenty of time to get used to moving again when you begin your…  _ actual _ recovery.” Anduin noticed the shift in tone when he said it. Almost like he was growing angry again. 

His steps grew heavier as he traversed the steepest part of the hill, and Anduin hissed, trying to summon the will for his limbs to stop protesting  _ every slight movement _ he made. He sighed in relief as the ground leveled, and his father ceased walking. Anduin moved his head to look at the two pandaren, and his eyebrows raised in shock. 

“Anduin! Oh gods, we’d heard, but-” Nadaya’s voice was like silk on water. Anduin beamed, but it was pained. She seemed to snap to attention quickly, and stuttered. Alanhang was silent, contemplative as he overlooked his injuries. “Ah, right, I apologize. This way, please. We’ve managed to procure a cottage to use for the Prince’s recovery. The owner is never home anyhow, so the Elders don’t mind us using it.” She pointed to a small cottage just beside a path to a lone bell. 

_ It’s smaller than the Divine Bell- _

Anduin pushed the thought from his mind as his father walked off in that direction. He wanted to say something to Nadaya and her brother, but he found the words dead on his tongue. He didn’t really know  _ what _ to say… The last he saw them was what, at the Shrine in the Vale? Nadaya’s hair was wrapped in thin cloth-covered buns now, with straight bangs that were framed by two thin, short braids falling in front of her ears and ending just below her chin. Alanhang’s goatee and mustache had gotten longer as well as his hair, pulled back into a short ponytail. They both looked very tired and alert, but they still felt like the same people he’d met all those months ago, injured and lost. 

He didn’t realize they’d even stepped into the cottage until he was being placed down onto a bed built into the side of the wall, curved to follow the circle nook it was placed in. There were stairs just beside the bed, wide enough so you wouldn’t trip down them. The pillows were plush and comfortable and the blankets were so very soft…

_ I don’t think anyone knows how to relax as much as the pandaren do. _

Father sat down on the stairs just as Velen placed his trunk down just outside of the nook, clasping his hands together as he bowed his head respectively to the two pandaren. 

“You two and his highness will be well protected, I assure you,” Father didn’t seem to want to move. “My King, we must return. Before we left Admiral Taylor informed me that he must speak with you.” Anduin always hated it when Velen acted so formal. It just wasn’t like him. 

It bothered him only slightly that he couldn’t say goodbye to Taylor or Reverence- even the draenei brothers. They were off spreading the good word of the Alliance via action and deeds. 

He hadn’t seen Khantis or Verild since before his injury either, though he was told that they were the ones who had brought him in. He couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t remember much of anything he was told he was awake for. It was as if his mind was trying to block out the memory, forcing him to forget. 

He felt his father’s hand card through his hair as he kissed his forehead again. He leaned down and hugged Anduin as best he could without hurting the exhausted prince. Anduin squeezed his arms and smiled. 

“I’ll visit as soon as I can, but you know with the front-”

“Yes, Father, don’t rush. Keep everyone safe. I’ll be fine here.”

Father’s eyes softened and he nodded, standing back up and nodding tersely to the mage standing impatiently in the doorway, arms folded and tapping his foot. Anduin cocked a brow and turned his head to face Velen. The prophet ruffled his hair and chuckled, following his father out of the cottage. 

He was alone with Nadaya and Alanhang. The siblings held a grimace on their face as they regarded him. Nadaya moved to sit on the edge of his bed and took his bandaged hand, warming his cold, small fingers in her paw. 

“It has been quite a while, hasn’t it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha hellOO Jade Temple you are SO COOL
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3<3  
> Please leave comments or kudos! <3<3


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